


No Gold Can Compare

by Reiya



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Barista Katsuki Yuuri, Businessman Victor Nikiforov, Dancer Katsuki Yuuri, Drama, Falling In Love, Financial Issues, Fluff, M/M, Rich Victor Nikiforov, Romance, Sexual Content, Switching, Waiter Katsuki Yuuri, aka the one where Viktor just wants to help, and Yuuri refuses to let his life become a sugar daddy AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-05-27 20:13:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 39,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15032327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reiya/pseuds/Reiya
Summary: Yuuri is a typical ex-student. Recently graduated, drowning in student debt and working two jobs just to try and keep his head above water. But his life changes forever the day he meets Viktor Nikiforov, a charming and successful Russian businessman who turns his whole world upside down.It’s not long before Yuuri finds himself falling. But love is complicated, and both he and Viktor must face challenges together and discover if a relationship can really survive between two people who come from such different worlds.SpanishTurkish





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [No Hay Oro Que Se Compare](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15117992) by [CornerStone1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CornerStone1/pseuds/CornerStone1)
  * Translation into Türkçe available: [Altınla Bile Kıyaslanamaz (No Gold Can Compare)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15342309) by [TessaWarbeck](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TessaWarbeck/pseuds/TessaWarbeck)



“Thank god it’s Friday,” Phichit announced, tossing his bag onto the couch and slumping down to sit next to it with a sigh of relief. “Finally, a chance to relax.”

Yuuri shot him a withering look.

“Must be a nice feeling,” he replied, rolling his eyes. Phichit just grinned, stretching out on the couch without a scrap of sympathy on his face.

“That’s what you get for working Friday nights,” he teased, looking unfairly comfortable. “You always get the worst shifts.”

Yuuri allowed his expression to change to one of fond exasperation as he shrugged on his coat, still looking at his friend.

“It’s because I work these shifts that I can afford my share of the rent,” he pointed out. “And you know if I moved out, you’d never be able to find another roommate who’s willing to put up with you singing ‘The King and the Skater’ in the shower at seven in the morning.”

“That’s true,” Phichit conceded, still grinning. “Plus, you love me too much to move out, don’t deny it.”

Yuuri laughed, but didn’t deny it. He and Phichit had known each other since Phichit’s first year of college and they had been inseparable ever since. It had been Phichit who first suggested they move in together and Yuuri had never wanted another roommate.

“I’ll be back before midnight,” he told Phichit instead as he pulled on his shoes and prepared to leave. “Unless they keep me late.”

“They _always_ keep you late Yuuri,” Phichit pointed out, in the tone of someone who had had the same argument many times over. “They overwork you and you know it.”

Yuuri just shrugged.

“The tips are good at least,” he replied, although it sounded half-hearted even to his own ears.

“Yes, because you spend your nights serving food to a bunch of rich assholes who like to flash their money around and treat you like dirt.”

Yuuri opened his mouth to respond before closing it again, glancing away. It wasn’t like Phichit was wrong after all. Yuuri hated his job, more and more with every month that passed. But it wasn’t like he had many other options at the moment either.

“Well, I guess that’s what I get for getting going to study abroad, borrowing thousands of dollars to pay for a four year dance degree and then having no way to pay it all back once I graduated,” he said, a little bitterly. Money was a sore spot and it was never something that he liked thinking about.

“Oh Yuuri,” Phichit’s voice had softened and Yuuri could hear the sympathy. “You’ll get your dream job eventually. I know you will.”

Yuuri didn’t have the heart to argue with him. Phichit had always been his most avid supporter, the one who insisted that he should never give up on his dream. And if he had to work jobs he hated until he achieved that dream, then so be it.

“And in the meantime,” Phichit continued, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “All you need to do is seduce one of those rich assholes and you could be debt free!”

“I’d rather be in debt forever,” Yuuri shot back with a laugh. “Goodbye Phichit.”

He made his way out of the apartment, closing the door behind him, and braced himself for the night ahead.

 

* * *

 

 

When Yuuri arrived at the restaurant for his shift, Leo was waiting for him.

“It’s going to be a busy night tonight,” he warned as Yuuri straightened out his uniform. “There’s a big party coming into your section in an hour, some kind of business thing.”

Yuuri nodded in acknowledgement, scanning the restaurant. All of the usual faces were there. Mila was behind the bar, as usual. From the looks of it, she was spending less time making drinks and more time flirting with Sara, also as usual. Sara’s brother and fellow server Michele was busy over on the other side of the restaurant and seemed not to have noticed. Although from the glare he was shooting Emil, Yuuri was pretty sure Michele just hadn’t figured out yet which co-worker he should be keeping an eye on in regards to his little sister.

It was a typical sight for a Friday evening. In the year that he had worked there, Yuuri had come to know the inner workings of the restaurant well. Along with much more about the private lives of his fellow employees than he ever cared to know.

The beginning of his shift passed in a blur of tables and orders and complaints. Yuuri barely had time to breathe, let alone think. The restaurant filled steadily as the evening went on, until there was barely a spare seat to be found. It was all the usual clientele. Men in tailored suits and woman in figure-hugging dresses, sporting jewellery that probably cost more than Yuuri’s entire rent for a month. 

After about an hour, there was a flurry of movement at the door and Yuuri turned to see a large group spilling through the entrance. Michele met them at the door and lead them to their seats, straight to the table that had been reserved in Yuuri’s section.

It must be the party that Leo had warned him about. Yuuri could spot a business dinner a mile away, and the group who had just arrived fit that type exactly. Every person there was dressed sharply, smiling a little too widely and laughing a little too loud as they sized each other up. There wasn’t a single hair out of place, all of them attempting to subtly intimidate or outdo the others without making it obvious that that was their goal. In his time working there, Yuuri had seen it hundreds of times before and was sure he would see it hundreds of times again.

Once they were settled, Yuuri forced his face into a smile and made his way over, mentally counting down the hours until his shift finally ended.

“Can I bring you any drinks for this evening,” he asked, turning to the man seated nearest to him.

And promptly almost choked on his own tongue.

The man’s eyes flickered up to meet his and he smiled, the action doing nothing to help Yuuri’s current predicament. He was gorgeous, piercing blue eyes and sharp cheekbones framed by locks of silver hair. His smile was charming, a little playful. Like an invitation. Yuuri could hear his own sentence trailing off as he stared, but he couldn’t help himself.

“We’ll start with a bottle of the 1977 Château d'Yquem,” the man said finally, accent curling low over the words and eyes never leaving Yuuri.

It took Yuuri several seconds to process the information, still feeling pinned in place by those unnaturally blue eyes. When it finally hit him however, he could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks and he ducked his head, fumbling for his notepad to jot down the order.

“Of course sir,” he just about managed to choked out, still blushing furiously.

He had been staring for far longer than was appropriate, and he could feel the embarrassment rising within him. It wasn’t usual for Yuuri to be caught off guard by a pretty face, but there had been something in the way that Silver-haired And Unfairly Handsome had been looking at him. Something that made Yuuri’s heart beat a little faster at the sight.

Thankfully, the man didn’t seem offended by Yuuri’s blatant staring. Instead, his face had morphed into a pleased expression, lips still curled into a smile. Yuuri looked away, trying to force the blush from his cheeks. Hurriedly, he moved on to the next guest, praying that his slip-up hadn’t been noticed by anyone else at the table.

As soon as the rest of the orders were taken he practically bolted away, taking refuge by the bar where Mila and Sara were still working. There he let out a shuddering breath, mentally cursing himself. He was supposed to be a professional. One attractive man smiling at him had never been enough to trip him up before and it shouldn’t have been now. No matter how pretty that smile had been. 

Shaking his head to rid himself of the thought, Yuuri set about collecting the requested drinks. When they were all assembled he brought them to the table, studiously refusing to look anyone in the eye. Then he swiftly retreated. As he left, he could have sworn he felt eyes on his back but refused to let himself turn around to check.

It was several minutes before he returned to the table again. The restaurant was busy and he barely got a moment to breathe, hurrying to take orders or balancing various plates of food as he dodged the other servers. But eventually he was forced to return, determined this time not to make such a fool of himself.

This time when he took the orders, he deliberately started away from the unfairly attractive man, still far too embarrassed from practically tripping over himself earlier. Thankfully, no-one else at the table paid him much attention, barely sparing him a glance as they tossed him their orders and returned to their previous conversations.

By the time he reached the final order, he was ready.

“And what can I get for you sir?” he asked, making sure to keep his voice level and professionally bland.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Silver-haired And Still Way Out Of His League replied, smiling up at Yuuri. His voice was light, a little teasing and his eyes flickered over Yuuri in an appreciative glance. “What would you recommend?”

“Um…”

The question caught Yuuri off guard, although it shouldn’t have. He had been asked for recommendations before, countless times. It wasn’t like he could ever actually afford any of the food they served of course, not even if he wanted too. But he had memorised the answers that the chefs had told him to say and was used to rattling them off by now. But again, there was something in the man’s smile, in the way he spoke to Yuuri, that threw him entirely off guard.

“The foie gras is one of our specialties,” Yuuri blurted out, grasping for the first thing that he could think of.

“I’ll trust your recommendation then,” the man replied with what Yuuri could have sworn was a wink. “I’m sure you have excellent taste.”

Yuuri was just thankful he had his notepad to hide behind as he tried not to blush for the second time in one evening. He made a strangled sound in an approximation of a _‘thank you’_ and hurried away again, praying that none of his co-workers noticed anything.

He wasn’t that lucky.

“Yuuri, that guy has been looking at you all night,” Leo commented casually around an hour later, with a swift nod to the other side of the room. When Yuuri glanced over to where Leo had motioned, he could see a flash of silver hair and a brief glimpse of the face beneath it.

Sara sidled up to join them, looking delighted.

“I think you mean he’s been _flirting_ with Yuuri all night,” Sara corrected with a grin, elbowing Yuuri in the ribs and making him almost drop the plate of food he was carrying. “And his name is Nikiforov by the way. I overheard one of the others call him that when I was getting more wine.”

“He’s not been flirting with me!” Yuuri protested, then backtracked under Sara’s disbelieving stare. “Ok maybe he has a little. But he’s probably just one of those people who flirts with everyone.”

“Well, even if he is, he’s cute,” Sara shrugged. “You might as well enjoy it while it lasts.”

Yuuri had no intention of following her advice, but he couldn’t help but let his eyes drift over to Nikiforov occasionally as the evening dragged on. Yuuri could see that he was charismatic, holding the attention of everyone at his table as he spoke. Funny too, more than once Yuuri heard the whole table explode into laughter over something that he had said. His accent was foreign, Yuuri would guess Russian. His voice was low and pleasing to the ear, the kind of voice that Yuuri could listen to for hours.

Yuuri very forcibly cut that train of thought off before it could go any further.

His duties as a waiter required Yuuri to return to check on the table periodically. Thankfully, he didn’t embarrass himself again which was a small blessing. But he still couldn’t seem to help the little jolt his heart made inside his chest every time Nikiforov sent another charming smile or flirty comment his way.

Nikiforov was probably just bored and looking for entertainment, Yuuri knew that. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. Plenty of people had tried to flirt with Yuuri on the job before and he had always kept it strictly professional, letting the words just roll off him. But for some reason, with Nikiforov, Yuuri found himself beginning to flirt back.

It was safe, he reassured himself. It wasn’t like he was ever going to see Nikiforov again after all.

Eventually, the dinner began to wrap up and Nikiforov signalled for the check. Yuuri brought it over, wincing at the total. It would never cease to amaze him just how much some people were willing to spend on food. After a quick look over the numbers, Nikiforov handed Yuuri his credit card. Their fingers brushed together as the card changed hands and Yuuri could have sworn he felt a jolt of electricity run through him from the contact. Shaking his head, he dismissed it. He was probably just tired. That must be why the whole thing was affecting him as much as it was.

Turning around, he took the card away to swipe and tried to shake off the feeling. As he brought it back to the table along with the receipts, he glanced down at the name on the card, unable to contain his curiosity. ‘VIKTOR NIKIFOROV’ stared back at him in block letters. So Sara had been right about the name at least.

Nikiforov, no, _Viktor_ , took back the card from Yuuri with a smile as the rest of his associates prepared to leave. Quickly he bent down, scribbling his signature onto one of the receipts before handing it back.

“Thank you for the excellent service,” he told Yuuri, tone entirely sincere. His smile was genuine as he turned to leave and Yuuri felt a faint pang of disappointment as he walked away. It wasn’t often he served a customer he actually liked. Let alone one he liked who was also as good-looking as Viktor had been.

Then he glanced down at the receipt in his hand and froze at what he saw there.

Leo, who had been walking past at the time, looked over curiously.

“What is it?” he asked, sounding concerned. “Did they not tip you well or something.”

Yuuri handed over the receipt wordlessly. He saw Leo’s eyes zero in on the tip section, then widen as he took in the number that Viktor had written beneath it.

“Holy shit,” he murmured, turning to Yuuri with wide eyes. Yuuri just nodded dumbly.

“Nobody tips this well,” Leo stated, still sounding a little awestruck. “You must have given him some amazing service Yuuri.”

“I guess so,” Yuuri muttered faintly, still staring at the receipt in his hand.

 

* * *

 

 

“Please tell me you at least got his number,” Phichit asked as soon as Yuuri finished recounting the story later that evening. When Yuuri shook his head, Phichit groaned dramatically.

“He didn’t offer,” Yuuri pointed out, ignoring Phichit’s exasperated sigh. “And I’m glad he didn’t. It wouldn’t have been professional. I was serving him, I wouldn’t have been in the position to say yes even if I wanted to.”

“Which I _didn’t_ ,” he added at Phichit’s raised eyebrow. “Seriously Phichit. He was probably just another rich guy who likes to flirt with anything that moves and throw his money around. And I’ll never see him again, so it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Be that as it may,” Phichit began, ignoring Yuuri’s sigh of protest. He could tell exactly where this conversation was going. It was something they had talked about many times before and Yuuri really wasn’t in the mood to hear it all over again. “You should at least try dating again, Yuuri. If not with the hot Russian businessman, then with someone else. It’s getting sad when the most action you’ve had all week is some hot guy smiling at you at work.”

“I’m busy,” Yuuri pointed out, hoping to crush the topic of conversation quickly.

“You know what they say about all work and no play,” Phichit warned. “You’re always working nowadays, and you’re always stressed. Let yourself have some fun for a change.”

“I just haven’t found the right time yet,” Yuuri countered. “Or the right person.”

“Well, with how social you are these days, unless the right person walks through the door while you’re working and falls in love with the charming way you take their order, you’re never going to meet them,” Phichit told him. Yuuri could hear the teasing note in his voice so he just rolled his eyes and turned away.

“I’m going to bed,” he called over his shoulder. “Goodnight Phichit.”

Ignoring Phichit’s exaggerated call of _‘you can’t run from this forever Yuuri’_ , he made his way into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. It had been a long and unexpected day and all he wanted now was to finally go to sleep.

That night, he dreamt of silver hair, a charming smile and piercing blue eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri woke to the sound of his alarm blaring and seriously considered just going back to sleep.

It was far too early to get up, and the fact he had to made the option even less appealing. Instead, he allowed himself to doze for several minutes, content to just relax in the comfort of his bed. Eventually however, he was rudely startled awake by the sound of Phichit banging on his door.

“Come on Yuuri,” Phichit called through the wood. “If you don’t hurry up, we’re going to be late for work.

Yuuri groaned, burying his head under his pillow, but he knew that Phichit was right. Reluctantly, he dragged himself out of bed, stumbling around his room to get ready. When he finally emerged, Phichit was already ready to go, looking flawless as usual. Yuuri hurriedly attempted to smooth down his bedhead and allow his friend to pull him out of the door.

The commute to work was long and boring but eventually they both arrived, intact and almost on time. Yuuri knew that Celestino wouldn’t mind if they were a few minutes late though.

The coffeeshop where both he and Phichit worked was cosy, nestled in the corner of a bustling street on Upper West Side. Yuuri had originally stumbled across it back in his first year of college, broke and willing to take any job that would work around his demanding schedule. It was close to campus and the owner Celestino had been friendly and accommodating, exactly what Yuuri needed. Celestino had taken him on, and later had also offered a job to Phichit when Yuuri had introduced the two of them. Even when he and Phichit had moved far off campus to somewhere more affordable, they had both continued to work there despite the commute. Celestino treated them like family and the pay was good. And Yuuri needed the money, now more than ever.

It was still several minutes from opening, so the shop was almost deserted when he and Phichit arrived. The only person behind the counter was Guang Hong, one of their fellow employees, who was setting up the machines for the day. He turned to wave at the two of them as they approached, looking as cheerful as ever.

“Hi Phichit, hi Yuuri,” he called as they entered. Guang Hong was the newest employee, and the youngest, but he got on with everyone and he was a hard worker.

“Hi Guang Hong,” Phichit chirruped and Yuuri echoed the greeting, trying not to yawn as he did so.

Both of them grabbed their aprons and joined Guang Hong behind the counter. Together they finished off the final few tasks of opening the café and it didn’t take long before they were ready to face the first customers of the day.

At first the customers came in in ones or twos. As the hours past, it became a steady trickle which turned into a constant stream. By midday, the other two employees had begun their shifts to help out with the lunchtime rush. Seung-gil, a stoic mathematics major who worked part time like Yuuri and Phichit, and Otabek, a local DJ who picked up shifts with Celestino every now and then when he needed the extra money. They had all worked together for long enough to know each other’s patterns, and so the day passed by relatively smoothly. Aside from the occasional spilled coffee or screaming customer of course. Which, after four years of working there, Yuuri had pretty much come to expect as a daily occurrence.

The hours dragged by and eventually Yuuri found himself working on automatic, allowing his hands to carry out the familiar tasks while his mind wandered. He was so distracted that he barely glanced at the next customer in line, the robotic _‘what can I get for you today?’_ falling from his lips before he even registered who was standing in front of him.

When he looked up and caught sight of familiar blue eyes however, he froze. Viktor Nikiforov stared back at him, looking pleasantly surprised.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Viktor said with a smile.

“I work here,” Yuuri blurted out without thinking, then mentally groaned. ‘ _Way to go Yuuri’_.

“I can see that,” Viktor replied with a laugh, eyes flickering over Yuuri’s uniform.

Yuuri cleared his throat to hide his embarrassment and fought the urge to turn away.

“So, uh, what can I get for you?” he asked again, wondering what the hell Viktor was doing there in the first place. The shop was filled with students in ratty clothes, chattering away or pouring over their laptops. Viktor looked glaringly out of place. A three-piece suit that couldn’t be anything but tailored clinging to the curves of his body and his sliver hair slicked back. Someone like him had no reason to be in the coffeeshop and Yuuri was baffled to say the least. Meeting someone like Viktor in high-class restaurant buying food that cost more than Yuuri spent in a month? Yes, that Yuuri could understand. Running into him in a student coffeeshop? That was unexpected.

Viktor looked slightly taken aback, as if he somehow hadn’t expected the question. He glanced up at the menu above Yuuri’s head, eyes narrowing slightly as he scanned the options. Then he turned back to Yuuri, smile fixed back in place.

“I’ll have a latte,” he asked casually, ignoring Yuuri’s surprised expression.   

“Of course.”

Yuuri ducked away, grabbing the milk and trying to understand the bizarre turn of events that life had just thrown at him. As he poured the milk into the jug and set it under the steamer, he tried to sneak glances of Viktor out of the corner of his eye. Viktor had moved up to the cash register where Phichit was waiting to take his money, still looking completely out of place in the café.

Yuuri couldn’t decide what he was more shocked by. That Viktor had randomly wandered into the same café where Yuuri worked, or the fact that he remembered Yuuri in the first place. Viktor probably had people falling over themselves to please him at all hours of the day. Yuuri was shocked that Viktor hadn’t instantly forgotten the lowly waiter who had fumbled over his words and clumsily attempted to return Viktor’s flirting the night before.

There was an angry hissing noise from under his hand, jerking Yuuri out of his thoughts. Glancing down, he realised why. He had been so busy staring at Viktor that he had burned the milk he had been trying to steam. Cursing internally, Yuuri dumped the ruined batch in the sink and poured out a new jug. Considering the size of the tip that Viktor had left for him the night before, the least he could do was make him a decent coffee.

Newly determined, Yuuri set about re-making the order. This time he steamed the milk carefully, pouring it onto the shot of coffee with expert hands. Using the remaining foam, he added the finishing touches to the cup. When he was finally finished, the face of a dog was drawn in the foam and Yuuri was satisfied. He prided himself in his latte art and he hoped that Viktor would appreciate it.

Carefully, he carried the cup over to the front counter where Viktor was waiting. When he spotted the dog drawn on his coffee, Viktor’s face lit up in delight.

“That’s adorable,” he stated, grinning down at the cup and then back up at Yuuri. “You’re very talented.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri mumbled, feeling his ears begin to turn red under the praise.

He hurried away before he could embarrass himself in front of Viktor again. As he passed Phichit, his friend gave him a pointed look and Yuuri realised that Phichit must have overheard his and Viktor’s exchange. Yuuri refused to catch his friend’s eye, hoping it would all be forgotten in the madness of the lunchtime rush.

Phichit however, had other plans.

The minute there was a lull in customers he dragged Yuuri to one side, expression determined.

“Yuuri, that silver-haired, blue-eyed Russian man that you just served coffee to? He wouldn’t happen to be the same silver-haired, blue-eyed Russian man that you told me about last night by any chance?” he asked, looking a little incredulous. When Yuuri just shuffled awkwardly and didn’t reply, Phichit’s eyes widened.

“It is!” Phichit exclaimed and Yuuri hurriedly to shushed him, motioning frantically for Phichit to keep his voice down.

“ _It is_ ,” Phichit hissed again, staring at Yuuri in shock. “What is he _doing_ here?”

“How am I supposed to know?” Yuuri asked, making sure to keep his voice low. “It must just be a coincidence.”

“This is no coincidence Yuuri,” Phichit grinned, glancing over at Viktor and then back to Yuuri again. “This is _fate_.”

Yuuri didn’t deign that with a response.

“Oh come on!” Phichit continued at Yuuri’s unimpressed expression. “Don’t give me that look. Please tell me you at least wrote your number on his napkin when you gave him his coffee or something.”

“Of course I didn’t Phichit,” Yuuri replied, rolling his eyes. “I don’t know him. And even if I did, he’s way out of my league! He’s not interested in me.”

“I don’t know,” Phichit shot him a sceptical look. “From the way he was looking at you, he seemed pretty interested in you to me.”

Yuuri glanced over to where Viktor was sitting, sipping his coffee. As if sensing Yuuri’s stare, Viktor glanced up. His lips twitched up into another smile when he saw Yuuri watching and Yuuri turned away quickly, embarrassed about being caught.

“Told you,” Phichit said, looking smug.

Yuuri ignored him.

Instead he turned back to the counter, moving to grab the next coffee order in the line. He was still on the clock after all, he berated himself, and he needed to focus on work.

Even with that in mind, he couldn’t help but steal the occasional glance at Viktor as the minutes ticked on. Viktor finished his coffee and eventually stood up. His eyes turned to Yuuri for a second and it looked almost as if he was going to come over. But then Viktor frowned, hand moving quickly to his pocket and pulling out a phone that was vibrating loudly in his hand.

Even over the noise of the café, Yuuri caught the clipped tone of Viktor’s words as he spoke into the device. He was speaking in Russian, incomprehensible to Yuuri’s ears, but it sounded like whatever Viktor was hearing, he wasn’t happy about it. Swiftly, Viktor gathered up the rest of his belongings and strode for the door, still speaking rapidly into the phone.

At the door, he threw a quick glance over his shoulder, eyes finding Yuuri’s in the crowd. Viktor flashed him one final smile before he turned and walked away.

Yuuri watched him leave, feeling strangely regretful. Whatever Phichit might joke, he didn’t make a habit of getting random crushes on attractive customers. Especially not ones he had only met twice. But there had been something about Viktor. Something memorable. Something in his smile that made Yuuri want, futilely, to see him again.

“You never know,” Phichit said from behind him, jerking Yuuri out of his thoughts. “He might come back sometime.”

Yuuri snorted, waving the idea away.

“No, he won’t. He probably only came here because he got lost or had some time to kill on the way to a meeting or something. Anyway, Manhattan is a big place. I doubt either of us will ever see him again.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, both he and Phichit were working in the café again. It had been a busy afternoon and Yuuri’s feet hurt from the long hours of standing. The knowledge that he had a shift at the restaurant later that night did nothing to help his tiredness.

Something nudged his side, shaking Yuuri out of his thoughts. Yuuri turned to see Phichit grinning at him, looking smug.

“Look who came back,” he muttered, nodding surreptitiously over to the door.

Yuuri turned, noticing the figure that Phichit was nodding at. Sharply dressed, silver hair slicked back. Yuuri’s eyes widened as blue eyes met his own.

It was Viktor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins! 
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](http://kazliin.tumblr.com/) where I post more about my fics and YOI in general. And thank you so much to everyone who already follows me on there and has supported me as I wrote this fic! When I first posted the original [idea](https://kazliin.tumblr.com/post/164530795962/overdue-loans) for this story, all of your enthusiasm was what pushed me to turn it into a full-blown fic.
> 
> Also, special thanks to Luc for encouraging me with this fic and for the help with American culture. And to Adele, for all her incredible support, advice, and for listening to me rant about this fic more than any one human should have to. I couldn’t have done it without you <3
> 
> Finally, I am not American and so I apologise for any inaccuracies in this fic in regards to America. I have done research to try and make it as accurate as I can, but I know I will probably still make some mistakes. 
> 
> Thank you again and I hope you enjoyed the first chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

The sight of Viktor walking through the door froze Yuuri in his tracks.

Vaguely, he was aware that he was staring, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Viktor looked perfectly at ease as he walked towards the counter, gloved hands hooked into his suit pockets and a relaxed smile on his face. There was a slight flush on his cheeks from the heat of the day, a tint of pink highlighting his sharp cheekbones. A single strand of hair had fallen loose about his face and Viktor brushed it back casually before leaning on the counter, waiting for Yuuri expectantly.

Yuuri could feel Phichit’s eyes drilling holes into the back of his head as he approached the counter, tongue suddenly feeling like lead in his mouth. He had no idea what he was going to say. There were plenty of things he would _like_ to say when confronted by the unfairly attractive man smiling at him again, but none were exactly appropriate for the situation.

“Uh, hi,” Yuuri blurted out instead.

Phichit’s sigh of disappointment behind him told Yuuri that his efforts to sound calm and collected had failed miserably.

“Hi,” Viktor replied, seemingly unfazed.

“Can I get you a coffee?” Yuuri asked, trying to fall back into a professional demeanour and not entirely succeeding. “Or tea? Or, um…drink?”

He trailed off lamely, motioning half-heartedly to the board behind him and its extensive list of drinks to choose from. From his place at the cash register, Otabek shot Yuuri a look that was half pity, half amusement. Yuuri seriously considered just letting himself sink below the counter and disappear from sight. It seemed like he was forever destined to end up sounding like an idiot whenever Viktor Nikiforov was around. 

“I’ll have another latte,” Viktor replied, seemingly oblivious to the train wreck that was Yuuri Katsuki’s attempts at conversation. “I enjoyed the one I had last time so much that I had to come back.”

Yuuri wasn’t sure that his coffee making skills were really good enough for that kind of statement, but he couldn’t help but feel a slight flush of pleasure at the unexpected praise.

“One latte,” he repeated back with a bob of his head, then turned away towards the machines to start the order. Phichit was working on the machine next to him, adding mounds of whipped cream onto the top of his latest concoction.

“Suuuuure,” he muttered, and Yuuri could hear the smirk in his voice without even having to look at his friend. “It was the coffee that he came back for.”

Yuuri ignored him.

With great care, he prepared Viktor’s drink, making sure to recreate the foam dog on top of the latte as a finishing touch. Viktor had seemed so delighted with it the last time after all. And Yuuri could at least admit to himself that he wanted to see Viktor smiling like that again.

When the drink was ready, he brought it carefully over to the counter, trying not to spill any of the hot liquid. Viktor was leaning there casually, face lighting up as Yuuri approached.

“You drew another poodle!” he exclaimed when Yuuri pushed his cup towards him. “Thank you Yuuri.”

At the sound of his name, Yuuri froze. Icy cold panic suddenly flooded his veins. How did Viktor know his name? Was he some kind of weird stalker? What if him showing up in the café the day before hadn’t been coincidence at all? Had Yuuri unintentionally gotten a crush on some charming creep who had tracked him down and…”

Viktor clearly noticed the horrified look on Yuuri’s face because he backtracked instantly, looking mortified.

“God, I’m sorry,” he blurted out, holding up his hands as if in surrender. “I didn’t mean…I’m not…”

He coughed awkwardly, scratching at the back of his head with a sheepish expression on his face.

“It’s just you, uh, you’re wearing a name badge,” Viktor pointed out, motioning to the extremely obvious badge pinned to Yuuri’s chest.

Yuuri wanted to slam his head into the countertop. And then disappear. In that order.

“Sorry,” Viktor apologised again, still looking sheepish. “I didn’t realise how weird it would sound until I’d already said it.”

“It’s ok,” Yuuri reassured him, feeling just as embarrassed as Viktor looked. Well, if there was ever a sign that his love life was never meant to be, the fact that he couldn’t get through a single conversation with Viktor without making a complete fool of himself was probably it.

“I’ll just uh, go sit down,” Viktor added quickly. He grabbed his coffee and swiftly retreated, cheeks still flushed pink.

When Yuuri turned back towards the coffee machines, he could see Phichit’s shoulders shaking in silent laughter.

“That went well,” he sniggered when Yuuri joined him again, pointedly not looking in Phichit’s direction. “I take back everything I ever said about him Yuuri. He’s not suave at all, he’s a complete dork. You’re a perfect match.”

Yuuri briefly considered how to exact his revenge on Phichit, before realising that there were still customers watching. It would have to wait until that night, when Phichit couldn’t escape and there were plenty of pillows in their apartment that Yuuri could hit him with. Instead, Yuuri just settled for shooting his friend a reproachful glare while Phichit continued to laugh.

A few minutes later, the café had quietened down considerably and Yuuri was released from his duties on the coffee machine to go and clean some of the vacated tables instead. Grabbing some cleaning solution and a cloth, he began wiping down the ones nearest to him, scrubbing furiously to try and get the rings of coffee off the worn wood. As he moved around the room, he noticed Viktor sitting at a table in the corner. Viktor had stripped off the outer jacket of his suit, leaving him wearing only a shirt and waistcoat. The waistcoat was form-fitting and grey, a few shades darker than his hair and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, revealing perfectly sculpted arms beneath.

Yuuri felt his mouth go a little dry at the sight. It really was unfair, that Viktor was allowed to come in here and be so ridiculously distracting.

Gradually, Yuuri’s table clearing brought him closer and closer to where Viktor was sitting. Viktor had a laptop open in front of him, a sleek, expensive looking machine whose price Yuuri couldn’t even begin to guess at. The screen was open on some kind of report, the document filled with endless numbers and notes that bored Yuuri just to look at them. From the look on Viktor’s face, he probably agreed.

As Yuuri stacked up the used cups from the next table, he wondered why Viktor had decided to work in the café like a poor student who was only there to take advantage of the cheap drinks and Wi-Fi. Surely Viktor had a fancy office somewhere that would be better suited to his needs? But then again, Viktor could be like Phichit, who insisted that the hustle and bustle of a coffeeshop was the only place where he could really focus. Considering Phichit’s grades had never slipped below perfect, Yuuri assumed there must be some truth to his words.  

Yuuri continued to clean, gradually inching closer and closer to where Viktor was sitting. Eventually, he reached the table directly behind Viktor, sneaking the occasional glance every now and then. Several seconds later, Viktor let out a sigh and closed down the report that he had been staring at.

With the open file gone, only Viktor’s computer background was left on the screen. Instead of some generic stock photo or a company logo however, the picture was a personal one. In it, Viktor was sitting in a garden, wearing fashionably casual summer clothes and beaming at the camera. His arm was slung around an adorably fluffy poodle that was sitting next to him with its tongue lolling out happily. The poodle reminded Yuuri so much of Vicchan that it almost hurt, although the dog in the picture was much, much bigger.

“Is that your dog?” Yuuri blurted out, before he could stop himself.

Viktor glanced around in surprise, then looked quickly back to his screen. He grinned affectionally at the picture and when he turned to face Yuuri again, Yuuri could see the pride in his eyes.

“Yes, that’s my Makkachin,” Viktor confirmed, sounding almost like a proud parent. “Isn’t he wonderful.”

“He’s adorable,” Yuuri agreed, then added quickly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry!”

Viktor just waved the apology away.

“It’s nice to meet someone who appreciates him,” he told Yuuri, still staring at the picture of his dog fondly. “I brought him all the way out here from Russia with me. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Yuuri hummed in acknowledgement, and internally contemplated how unfair the world was being. First it hurled Viktor into his life, someone who was most definitely unattainable and totally out of Yuuri’s league. Then it turned out that Viktor was a dog person with the second most adorable poodle that Yuuri had ever seen. That just wasn’t playing fair.

“Do you have a dog Yuuri?” Viktor asked, eyes flicking back to Yuuri again and looking genuinely curious. Yuuri felt his heart drop a little, the rush of sadness hitting him so unexpectedly that he almost buckled under the force. It had been over a year, but Yuuri still couldn’t quite believe that Vicchan was gone.

“I…did,” he said eventually, voice subdued. Viktor must have gotten his meaning immediately because his face quickly turned to one of sympathy.

“I’m sorry,” Viktor replied, tone serious, and Yuuri just about managed to mumble a quick ‘ _thank you_ ’ past the lump in his throat. Talking about Vicchan still hurt, but it was nice to have someone who understood. From what Yuuri could tell, Viktor loved his own dog very much, just as Yuuri had adored Vicchan.

There was a pointed cough from behind them and Yuuri turned to see Seung-gil looking unimpressed, eyeing Yuuri’s abandoned cleaning equipment and the many dirty tables scattered around them. Yuuri jumped back hastily, attempting to look casual. During his talk with Viktor, he had subconsciously moved closer to the other man until he was almost directly behind him. Close enough to feel the heat coming off Viktor’s body and smell the pleasant, almost floral scent of his aftershave.

Hurriedly, Yuuri put several feet of space between them and tried to school his face back into a professional expression. Seung-gil did not look convinced. Thankfully he didn’t say anything however, just turned away and continued to clean the tables that Yuuri had abandoned.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t be keeping you from your work,” Viktor hastened to say. Yuuri was tempted to blurt out that Viktor was a very pleasant distraction, but bit back the words before they could leave his mouth.

“I’m the one who interrupted you,” he pointed out, nodding to the screen where the picture of Makkachin was still showing.

“I don’t mind,” Viktor grinned back, looking up at Yuuri from under long silver eyelashes. “You’re far more interesting anyway.”

Yuuri barely had time to blush from the compliment before Viktor was moving on, acting like he had said nothing out of the ordinary.

“And I’ll pass your compliments on to Makkachin,” he said with a light laugh, glancing back at the picture again. “He loves getting praise.”

Yuuri managed something approximating a nod before he was forced to turn away to hide the scarlet that he knew was creeping into his cheeks and over the tops of his ears.  Viktor’s casually flirty attitude was doing bad things to his heart, making it leap and beat fast at the most inopportune moments.

Yuuri returned to cleaning tables, still occasionally sneaking glances at Viktor out of the corner of his eye. Eventually he was pulled back onto coffee duty again, helping Phichit out with the orders. It wasn’t long after that that Viktor stood up to leave, packing his laptop away and making his way back towards the counter.

It was during the afternoon lull so there were no customers waiting as Viktor approached. Yuuri turned just in time to see Viktor pulling a note out of his wallet, dropping it into the tip jar that stood beside the cash register.

“I’ll see you around Yuuri,” Viktor told him with another easy smile. Then he turned and walked out of the door, disappearing onto the bustling street outside. Yuuri watched him go for a long moment, before Phichit’s sudden noise of delight dragged him from his thoughts.

“Yuuri,” Phichit said, fishing into the tip jar to pull out the note that Viktor had just dropped there. “Your boyfriend just left us a fifty dollar tip on a two dollar coffee.”

 “He’s not my boyfriend!” Yuuri protested, deciding to address the most pressing issue first. Phichit just rolled his eyes. “I’ve met him, what? Three times?”

“Be that as it may, you better keep flirting with him if this is how well he tips,” Phichit joked, waving the fifty dollar note at Yuuri. “Come on Yuuri. Take one for the team.”

Yuuri looked at the note, feeling a little guilty.

“I should probably tell him he’s tipping too much,” he mused, watching as Phichit dropped the note back into the tip jar. Tipping well at the restaurant was one thing. Tipping $50 for a coffee was just ridiculous.

Phichit rounded on him as he spoke, looking horrified.

“You absolutely should not,” Phichit declared in a scandalised voice. “We all get a share of these tips, and this is the easiest money I’ve ever made. If a cute guy wants to throw money at you for drawing dogs on his coffee, you should under no circumstances tell him to stop.”

“Fine,” Yuuri agreed, deciding that it wasn’t worth the argument. It was flattering to be sure, and he couldn’t help but admit that he needed the money. But something about it didn’t sit quite right with him.

Phichit must have noticed his reluctant expression because he rolled his eyes, looking exasperated.

“Come on Yuuri!” he exclaimed. “The perfect sugar daddy has practically thrown himself into your lap and you’re _not_ going to take advantage of it? Do you know how many people would kill to be in your position right now?”

“He’s hardly thrown himself into my lap,” Yuuri pointed out, faintly exasperated. He didn’t think a handful of meetings and some flirty words counted in the slightest. And even if they did, he had no intention of ‘taking advantage of it’, as Phichit suggested. “Anyway, I don’t want help. I don’t need it. I can get by on my own.”

“Fine,” Phichit conceded. “But even if you’re not interested in his money, you have to admit he’s cute, and clearly into you. It would practically be a crime to let this opportunity go to waste. As your best friend, I have a duty to at least get you laid before you work yourself to death.”

Yuuri just snorted, shaking his head and turning away. But even so, he couldn’t deny the tiny part of him that refused to entirely dismiss Phichit’s words. Phichit was just joking around, sure. But Viktor was handsome and charming and he loved dogs and Yuuri could already begin to feel the slight fluttering of his heart when Viktor’s face came to mind. Yuuri had no interest in his money but Viktor himself…

Yuuri couldn’t deny that he might have developed a slight crush.

He was so screwed.

 

* * *

 

 

Viktor returned to the café regularly after that.

Yuuri saw him almost every shift. Viktor would come in, just as he had done before, and chat with Yuuri at the counter before placing his order. Then he would retreat to a table with his laptop or his phone, flashing Yuuri the occasional smile as they both worked. On the quiet days, Yuuri stopped by Viktor’s table, falling into casual conversation with Viktor to pass the time. Viktor was easy to talk to, full of entertaining stories – mainly about Makkachin and the various antics he got up to -  that had Yuuri hooked until a sudden rush of customers forced him to return to work again. Viktor was still as flirty as ever but Yuuri hardly minded. In fact, although he would never admit it to Phichit, he enjoyed it.

The days when Viktor visited were always Yuuri’s favourite and he began to keenly feel Viktor’s absence when he wasn’t there. It seemed the sentiment was returned as well, after Guang Hong reported that Viktor had looked extremely disappointed when he had come in during one of the days Yuuri didn’t have a shift.

Yuuri and Viktor’s growing closeness did not go unnoticed by the rest of his co-workers either. Both Otabek and Seung-gil had made pointed comments about the regularity of Viktor’s visits to Yuuri, Seung-gil with a stoic expression and Otabek with a slight flash of mischief in his eyes. Phichit, of course, let nothing slip past him and his good-natured teasing was relentless. Somehow, at some point, Viktor’s nickname around the café had become ‘Yuuri’s Viktor’, and Yuuri wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that.  

As days turned into weeks, Yuuri found that Viktor had somehow seamlessly become part of his life. With every day that past, Yuuri learned a little more about him. Little titbits of information that came up naturally in their conversations and that Yuuri hoarded in his mind. He became used to seeing Viktor’s face, hearing his voice. A voice that Yuuri sometimes imagined in the dead of night, whispering things to him that would make him blush scarlet when they resurfaced in his mind the next day.

He had even found that his mind had a tendency to wander towards thoughts of Viktor even on days when Yuuri hadn’t even seen him. Today was one of those days.

It was Yuuri’s single day off during the week and he was taking full advantage of it. The summer might just be beginning to creep towards its end, but the day was still pleasantly hot, bright sunlight beating down on the city. Normally on his days off, Yuuri would force himself to go to the dance studio. It wouldn’t do to get out of shape or out of practice after all. But when he had woken up that morning, he had decided impulsively that he instead wanted to go for a run. Not the brutal sprints or aching long distance runs with weights in his backpack that Minako had used to force him to do, but a pleasant jog through Central Park.

Phichit was already long gone, out at one of his classes for the morning, so Yuuri set out alone. It was only about a twenty minute walk from his apartment to the park and so he strolled along at a leisurely pace. When he finally arrived, he began jogging one of the familiar routes, enjoying the sun on his face and the feeling of freedom that came with knowing he didn’t have to work later that night.

Yuuri allowed his mind to wander as he ran, body falling into the familiar rhythm. The park was beautiful, one of his favourite parts of the city. He had loved it ever since he had first arrived, eighteen years old and terrified. Moving to America had been a huge decision, and even now Yuuri wondered if it had been the right one. His time at college had been incredible, when he wasn’t tearing his hair out from stress of course. He had learned so much, improved his dancing so much and his dream had been so close that he could almost taste it.

But then, things had begun to go wrong. And now he was here, with more debt than he ever cared to think about, working two jobs - only one of which was tolerable and neither of which were what he actually wanted to be doing - and nothing had really worked out the way he had planned. Sometimes, he wondered if maybe it would just have been better to have stayed at home and worked at the onsen after all.

But if he had stayed at home, Yuuri reminded himself, he would never have met Phichit. Phichit, who had joined the ranks of Yuuko and Takeshi as the best friends he had ever had. Phichit, who Yuuri now couldn’t imagine ever living without.

And if he had never moved, he also never would have met Viktor. Viktor, with his shockingly blue eyes and heart shaped smile. Viktor, who laughed easily and smiled often and always had a new picture of his beloved Makkachin to show Yuuri whenever he came to the café.

Yuuri was so caught up in his thoughts about Viktor that when he first spotted the figure walking towards him, his immediate thought was that it must be his own imagination. As soon as he had snapped out of his daze however, he realised that the person in front of him was entirely real.

Viktor was strolling casually through the park, looking entirely unbothered by the warmth of the day. He was dressed in a salmon coloured shirt that was open at the neck, showing off the long pale column of his throat, and immaculate cream coloured trousers. A pair of dark glasses perched on his nose, shielding his eyes from the sun. In his hand he held a leash that was clipped to a very familiar poodle. Makkachin was even more adorable in person, fur perfectly groomed and ambling along happily by his owner’s side.

In comparison, Yuuri knew that he looked like a complete disaster. He had gone out that morning under the assumption that he wouldn’t be meeting anyone he knew that day, and his choice of clothing reflected that. The shirt he was wearing was one of his ratty old dance t-shirts, worn and almost threadbare in places. His shorts were old and slightly too tight, the ones he kept telling himself he ought to throw away but had never quite gotten around to. Yuuri knew that his face would be bright red too and he could tell that he was drenched in sweat, his shirt clinging to him unpleasantly.

For a brief moment, Yuuri considered throwing himself into the nearest bush to hide until Viktor had passed. But unfortunately, luck wasn’t on his side. Before he could begin to carry out his plan, Viktor spotted him, hand raising in greeting.

Yuuri slowed to a walk, resigning himself to his fate. Viktor face broke into a smile as Yuuri approached, eyes briefly flickering over Yuuri’s sweat soaked body before firmly fixing themselves back on Yuuri’s face again.

“Yuuri,” Viktor began, voice strangely higher than normal, although Yuuri couldn’t figure out why. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Yuuri replied, his own voice a little strangled.

Before he had a chance to say anything else however, a pair of very insistent paws pressed themselves against his chest. Makkachin’s furry face appeared just under his and Yuuri attempted not to stumble under the unexpected weight. A sloppy tongue shot out and gave his face and enthusiastic lick before Makkachin dropped down again, barking happily.

“ _Makkachin,_ ” Viktor scolded, looking embarrassed. “I’m sorry, he’s usually better behaved with strangers.”

Yuuri barely heard the words because he was already crouching down to pet the poodle’s head affectionately. Makkachin rubbed his face into Yuuri’s hand, letting out another excited bark. His fur was soft under Yuuri’s fingers and Yuuri almost forgot that there was anyone else even present as he lavished attention on the adorable dog.

A short laugh from above him made him look up to see Viktor beaming back, staring at the two of them.

“He likes you,” Viktor told him as Makkachin gave Yuuri another sloppy kiss. “I’ve never seen him take to someone so fast before.”

“He’s even cuter than his pictures,” Yuuri confessed, standing back up as Makkachin pressed happily against his legs.

“He is,” Viktor agreed, then motioned down the path ahead of them. “Would you like to walk with us a while. I’m sure Makkachin would enjoy more of your company.”

Yuuri looked down at Makkachin’s pleading brown eyes and knew that there was no way he could refuse.

“Sure,” he agreed, hoping his voice didn’t betray the frantic racing of his heart that had absolutely nothing to do with the exertion of his previous run.

“Excellent,” Viktor exclaimed.

The leash that Makkachin was on was loose and Viktor allowed him to lead the way, ambling along the paths and stopping occasionally to sniff at particularly interesting patches of grass.

“Do you come here often?” Viktor asked Yuuri as they walked, looking curious.

“Every now and then,” Yuuri replied with a slight shrug. “I don’t get much time off work, but I come when I can. What about you?”

“I usually take Makkachin to Washington Square Park because it’s closer,” Viktor said, shooting his dog another fond look. “But my meetings for the day were cancelled and so I wanted to take him on a nice long walk as a treat. We’ve never been down this end of the park before, but he wanted an adventure. I haven’t been here very long and it’s always good to see more of the city, so I didn’t mind. And now I’m very glad we came.”

The last part was said with a glance at Yuuri and Yuuri ducked his head, hiding his embarrassed smile. He wanted to say something equally smooth in return, but he had never been good at responding to flirting. In fact, according to Phichit, he was notoriously terrible at it. Instead, he latched on to another part of what Viktor had said.

“How long have you been here?” Yuuri asked instead. It wasn’t what he had hoped to say, but he was genuinely curious. Viktor had once mentioned bringing Makkachin over from Russia, but his work wasn’t something they’d ever really discussed before.

“Almost a year,” Viktor told him, voice light. “But my work takes up a lot of my time and feel like I’ve hardly seen any of the city. My father sent me here to establish an American branch of our company, but he’s barely given me a chance to see any of the country itself.”

Viktor said it so casually, but Yuuri was immediately alert the minute the words ‘our company’ passed Viktor’s lips. He had always assumed that Viktor’s work was something to do with business or finance, and it was clear it paid extremely well. But from the sound of it, wherever Viktor worked, he wasn’t just an employee. He had family connections, powerful ones. And probably an even more ridiculous amount of money than Yuuri had originally thought.

Which only made it even more ridiculous that he was talking to Yuuri in the first place.

Yuuri didn’t have much time to puzzle it over however before Viktor spoke again.

“What about you?” he asked. “You’ve mentioned your family back in Japan a few times. What made you come here?”

“I moved here for college,” Yuuri said, glancing down towards Makkachin as he spoke rather than look Viktor in the eye. “I trained in dance at The Ailey School here in Manhattan for four years. I thought this would be a place where I could make it big but…”

He shrugged helplessly. No matter how much he had come to enjoy Viktor’s company, he wasn’t quite ready to go into his biggest failure just yet. That wound was still too raw.

“It didn’t work out the way I planned,” he finished off instead, still looking away. “And I have bills to pay, so here I am. I want to go back home someday but for now, my life his here.”

“I’m sure you’re a fantastic dancer,” Viktor replied, gazed fixed on Yuuri. Yuuri couldn’t quite tell if it was just flattery or not, but he expected that it was. Viktor had never seen him dance, and probably never would. And even if he did, Yuuri was nothing special. Just another dime a dozen dancer who had screw up his big chance.

After that, their conversation drifted to lighter topics. Viktor recounted some of Makkachin’s antics in the park earlier, occasionally stopping to ruffle his fur fondly as he recounted his misdeeds. Yuuri responded with a few of his own stories from work the day before. How one of the coffee machines had practically exploded right in the middle of his shift, and how Phichit’s silver tongue had managed to talk down several angry customers, to the relief of them all.

The conversation flowed easily between them, occasionally broken by Makkachin’s barking insistence that he wanted to join in. Their route took them back the way that Yuuri had come and eventually, he found himself standing near the exit closest to his route home.

“I should probably head back,” he told Viktor reluctantly, nodding towards the edge of the park. He had enjoyed spending time with Viktor, much, much more than he probably should have. And been around Makkachin had brightened up his day considerably. But he couldn’t impose on them for any longer. For all he knew, Viktor might just have invited Yuuri along out of politeness and he didn’t want to overstay his welcome. Not to mention, Yuuri was sure he reeked of sweat, still not quite recovered from his earlier run.

“Oh,” Viktor said, sounding almost surprised at the thought of Yuuri leaving. Then his face shifted quickly to a neutral expression, although Yuuri could have sworn he saw a flash of disappointment in Viktor’s eyes. “Of course. I didn’t mean to keep you.”

“You didn’t!” Yuuri blurted out, hoping Viktor hadn’t misunderstood his words as a desire to leave. “I mean, I enjoyed myself. This. With you.”

It seemed his inability to form coherent sentences around Viktor hadn’t vanished completely, much to Yuuri’s embarrassment.

“I did too,” Viktor said, face lighting up. “And I’m sure Makkachin enjoyed your company too, didn’t you boy?”

Makkachin barked in agreement and Yuuri bent down, giving his head one last pat. Then he straightened up, turning to Viktor again.

“Bye Viktor,” he told the other man, keeping it short to avoid tripping over his words yet again. He had done enough of that to last him a lifetime.

“Goodbye Yuuri,” Viktor replied as Yuuri turned away. When Yuuri looked back, it almost seemed like Viktor was about to say something else. But instead he just waved, Makkachin lifting his paw too in a copy of his owner.

Yuuri could feel the smile growing on his face as he turned and walked out of the park. The grin remained in place as he made his way back through the crowded streets, feeling unusually cheerful.

It was only when he was nearing his apartment that Yuuri had a thought. Some of Viktor’s words from earlier had sparked his curiosity and so he pulled out his phone, quickly opening up the search bar and typing in the name ‘Nikiforov’.

Even a brief search gave Yuuri an immediate answer to his question. ‘Nikiforov Industries’ dominated the first page of the search results. According to google, the company was owned and run by a man named Dmitry Nikiforov. His expression in the picture attached was austere, nothing like Viktor’s bright smiles that Yuuri had become so used to. But there was something in his face that seemed familiar, in the sharpness of his cheekbones and the icy blue of his eyes. When Yuuri searched a little deeper, his suspicions were confirmed. Dmitry Nikiforov appeared to have only one son, the sole heir to his company.

Viktor Nikiforov.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on on [tumblr](http://kazliin.tumblr.com/) where I am currently screaming about the upcoming YOI film.
> 
> See you next level!


	3. Chapter 3

The next time Yuuri saw Viktor was, surprisingly, not at the café.

Ever since his encounter with the other man in the park the day before, Viktor had refused to leave Yuuri’s mind. Even the mere memory of their surprise meeting was enough to bring a smile to his face, ridiculous as he knew it was. He kept replaying the events in his mind over and over, remembering the exact way that Viktor had smiled, the brightness of his laugh and the fluttering of Yuuri’s heart that grew with every second that they spent together.

Ever since then, Viktor had been a constant presence in his thoughts. But even so, the last thing that Yuuri had expected during his shift at the restaurant the next day was to look up from clearing a table to see a very familiar figure walk through the door.

Viktor was dressed sharply again, a dark navy jacket over a crisp white shirt. Far less casual than when Yuuri had last seen him. His silver hair was loose, the carefully styled strands swept across his forehead and brushing past the corner of one eye. He wasn’t alone either. Instead, there were several other people with him, all dressed similarly in sharp lines and rich fabrics.

From the looks of it, Yuuri assumed they must be some kind of business associates. None of them looked particularly friendly, and all were looking at Viktor with a shark-like intensity. Their smiles were wide but their eyes were narrowed, gazes calculating.

As Yuuri watched, Michele met the group at the door and escorted them over to a table. To Yuuri’s disappointment, it was one of the ones in Sara’s section, far away from his own designated area. That disappointment was quickly quelled however when Viktor glanced up, his eyes meeting Yuuri’s across the restaurant. There was an instant spark of connection, like a shock of electricity passing between them, and Viktor’s face broke instantly into a smile. Yuuri was too far away across the room to say anything but he allowed himself a small smile in return, bobbing his head to acknowledge Viktor’s presence.

If only, Yuuri mourned quietly, he had run into Viktor again literally anywhere else. Celestino allowed a relaxed and friendly atmosphere at the café and had no problems with Yuuri striking up casual conversations with a customer, as long as he got his work done. But the restaurant had a far stricter policy and a code of professional conduct that would have Yuuri thrown out faster than he could say ‘unfair’ if he even tried to refer to Viktor as anything other than ‘Mr Nikiforov’. Talking casually like they usually did was entirely out of the question.

Instead, Yuuri resigned himself to watching from afar. Viktor had snapped back into a mask of stern professionalism during his meal, gaze assessing as he listened to his fellow diners, words short and pointed. Yuuri caught a few snippets of their conversation as he flitted back and forth across the restaurant, serving the other guests. It all seemed to be focused on securing contracts and budget numbers. Most of the business jargon that was being spat out flew well over his head and all of it sounding exceedingly boring. Yuuri wondered how Viktor could stand it.  

During one of his trips across the restaurant to fetch more food from the kitchen, Yuuri caught the tail end of a conversation drifting from Viktor’s table.

“The food here is excellent,” the woman sitting to Viktor’s right commented, dabbing delicately at her blood red lips with a napkin.

“It is,” Viktor agreed. Then his eyes flickered to Yuuri for a second as Yuuri passed and Yuuri could tell that Viktor knew he was listening. “As is the service. It’s why I recommended this restaurant in the first place.”

Yuuri didn’t have time to stop or any way to acknowledge the comment, but he felt a pleasant warmth in his chest at the subtle compliment all the same. He wanted to thank Viktor, to show somehow that he had heard and understood, but it was impossible. While Viktor was here, he was a customer. The barriers of work and professionalism between them couldn’t be crossed in this building, no matter how friendly they had become outside it.

The rest of Yuuri’s shift passed relatively quickly, almost to his disappointment. Usually he couldn’t wait to get home, especially on days when his shift ended before the restaurant closed. Having to stay after closing as he tried to gently persuade tipsy and entitled customers that it really was time to leave was the worst part of the job by far. But this time, Yuuri couldn’t help but privately mourn the fact he was leaving early without getting the chance to say a single word to Viktor. Or even acknowledge him, beyond a few lingering glances.

“Is your shift finished soon?” Sara asked him as she walked past, glancing between him and the clock that Yuuri was currently staring at. When Yuuri nodded, she shot him an envious look.

“Lucky!” she exclaimed, eyes flickering back to the clock again. “I still have another two hours to go.”

Yuuri hummed in acknowledgment, stepping aside to allow Sara to pass. Once she was gone he began to walk away, ready to make his way to the employees only area to pack up for the night, when a movement out of the corner of his eye stopped him. He and Sara had been talking within earshot of Viktor’s table and Viktor’s head had turned towards Yuuri briefly as he spoke. One of Viktor’s colleagues quickly struck up another conversation however and Viktor returned his attention back to them, the connection broken.

With his shift over and nothing left to keep him there Yuuri left the room and packed up quickly. Throwing on his coat over his uniform, he signed out and was finally free to leave. He left the restaurant through the employee’s exit, the door leading out into the alley that ran along the side of the building. From there he made his way back out onto the main street, heading for the nearest subway station.

He barely made it a few steps away from the restaurant however before a call of _‘Yuuri’_ from behind him caught his attention. When Yuuri turned, it was to see Viktor hurrying towards him down the street. Viktor quickly closed the distance between them until he was standing by Yuuri’s side, looking a little out of breath.

“Viktor?” Yuuri asked, confused.

“I hoped I would be able to catch you before you left,” Viktor told him, looking at Yuuri earnestly. “I didn’t want to ask you while you were working.”

Reaching out, he handed Yuuri a folded piece of paper. When Yuuri opened it, it was to see a phone number neatly written there, with Viktor’s name written in looping letters underneath.

“It’s my personal number,” Viktor added, flashing Yuuri one of his familiar, charming smiles. “Makkachin enjoyed walking with you so much and you two seemed to get along so well. So I thought, if you ever wanted to come on another walk with us again, you could give me a call.”

Yuuri just stared at the piece of paper, mind screeching to a halt.

By the time he looked back up, Viktor was already walking away. As Yuuri watched, Viktor turned and shot him a glance over his shoulder. There was a small half-smile on his face, illuminated by the golden light from the restaurant windows. Then he was gone, disappearing back into the building and leaving Yuuri alone on the street.

It took Yuuri several seconds to force himself to move. When the shock had finally worn off, he stuffed the number into his pocket and hastily made his way towards the nearest subway station, mind whirling.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“You have to go!” Phichit exclaimed the minute Yuuri finished telling his story.

Telling Phichit had been the first thing that Yuuri had done once he arrived home. During the entire journey he had been internally panicking, still trying to come to terms with the fact that _Viktor Nikiforov_ had just given him his number. Fantasy was one thing, but reality was entirely another. As soon as he had stumbled through the door, he had blurted the whole thing out to Phichit in one long, jumbled mess.

“I can’t!” was Yuuri’s first, instinctive response.

“Why not?” Phichit asked, looking incredulous. “You like him, don’t deny it. I see you two flirting all the time. And he clearly likes you or he wouldn’t have given you his number.”

“It just…it can’t happen,” Yuuri replied, a little desperately. “Phichit, we come from completely different worlds. He’s the heir of an entire company! We met because I was the waiter at his table. In what universe could this ever work out?”

Ever since Yuuri had googled Viktor, it had only solidified his belief that Viktor was entirely unattainable. Talking to Viktor was fun and the flirty comments he directed at Yuuri were incredibly flattering. And it was possible that Yuuri might have had the occasional fantasy involving Viktor, candlelit dinners and certain…other activities that he was determined to keep in the privacy of his own mind forever. But fantasy was safe. None of them were things he had ever intended or expected to become reality.

“You can’t say that before you’ve even tried,” Phichit pointed out. Yuuri remained unconvinced.

“It’s just…it’s never going to end well,” Yuuri sighed, running his fingers through his hair and pulling at the strands sharply. “Not with someone like him.”

Talking with Viktor was fine. Fantasising about him in the privacy of his own mind was safe. But actually dating Viktor would be a recipe for disaster. Viktor was charming and handsome and rich and everything that Yuuri wasn’t. Yuuri had no idea why Viktor was even interested in him in the first place. At best, Viktor wanted a quick fling. At worst, he pitied Yuuri and wanted to make him some kind of charity case. Neither of those options were appealing to Yuuri in the slightest.

“Well it wont with that attitude,” Phichit tossed back. Then his expression softened. “Yuuri, he’s clearly got a thing for you. He only ever comes into the café when you have a shift and it’s not because you make good coffee, trust me. And for this past year, all you’ve done is work and stress out. It’s been nice to see you smile for a change. Don’t ruin this before its even started just because it _might_ not work out in the end.”

“I…,” Yuuri trailed off, still not entirely convinced. Dating Viktor would be like setting himself up for failure. But there was still a part of him that wanted to, with a desperate burning ache that refused to be stifled by logic. Viktor was charming and handsome and his interest in Yuuri, while baffling, couldn’t be denied. And Yuuri liked him too. More than liked. The mere sight of Viktor walking through the door was enough to brighten his day.

“Just try one date,” Phichit advised. “If it goes badly, you never have to see him again. We can make sure of it.”

“He didn’t even ask me on a date,” Yuuri pointed out.

“He asked you to walk his dog with him,” Phichit countered, cutting straight through Yuuri’s denial. “That’s the least subtle excuse for trying to get someone to come on a date that I’ve ever heard. And anyway, you love dogs! Even if you don’t go for him, go for the poodle.” 

“He was very cute,” Yuuri conceded, not quite sure if he was referring to Makkachin or his owner. Probably both.

“Exactly!” Phichit exclaimed. “In the worst case scenario, you have one date where you get to play with his dog and then figure out it’s not going to work and break it off. And in the best, you get a gorgeous boyfriend who has clearly been pining after you for weeks. It’s basically a win-win situation!”

“But…how would a relationship between us even work?” Yuuri asked. The worries and doubts were still plaguing his mind, untouched by Phichit’s surety. How could he and Viktor ever hope to have a normal relationship with such an immense distance between their lives?

“That’s something you two will have to figure out for yourselves,” Phichit shrugged, looking unconcerned. “Don’t worry so much about the future Yuuri. If you do, you’ll never get to enjoy the present. Start with one date and you can figure out the rest as you go.”

“Ok,” Yuuri finally agreed and Phichit punched the air in victory.

“You should text him now,” Phichit added with a mischievous grin.

Without warning, he lunged for Yuuri’s phone. The sudden movement caught Yuuri off guard and they both tumbled to lie flat on the couch they had been sitting on, tussling for the device. Yuuri scrambled to escape as Phichit laughed, pinning him down playfully and trying to grab the phone out of his hand. Thankfully, Yuuri still had several inches on Phichit in height and he managed to stumble to his feet, holding the phone out of reach as Phichit conceded his defeat.

“I’m just trying to help,” Phichit told him with a laugh, slightly out of breath. “If you don’t text him now, you’ll just convince yourself it’s a terrible idea again and chicken out by tomorrow.”

“No I won’t!” Yuuri protested, indignant.

“Then prove it.”

Phichit’s gaze was challenging and Yuuri had never been able to ignore a challenge. He knew that his friend was playing him but that didn’t mean he was willing to back down. Not after Phichit had basically dared him. Yuuri had always hated losing after all.

Yuuri unlocked his phone and opened up his contacts, punching in Viktor’s name. Once the number was also added, he opened up a new text, typing out several words before deleting them and trying again. After several more attempts he stopped, at a loss as to what to say.

 _‘Yes’_ seemed a bit too blunt and to the point. _‘Dear Viktor, regarding our conversation today…’_ was far too formal. _‘I’d love to go on a date with you’_ was too desperate. _‘Just take me now’_ was right out.

 _‘Hi Viktor, it’s Yuuri’_ was what Yuuri eventually went with. He hit send before he could second guess himself, the swoosh of the message sending sounding more ominous than it ever had before.

Yuuri was about to stuff the phone back in his pocket and attempt to forget all about it when it buzzed sharply, lighting up in his hand. There was a new message from Viktor waiting for him on the screen.

“Wow, that was fast,” Phichit exclaimed, looking almost impressed.

Yuuri swiped open the message, reading it quickly.

 _‘Hi Yuuri!’_ the message read _._

Before Yuuri could even think of a response, another message appeared below the first.

_‘Did you think any more about what I said today?”_

_‘I did’_ Yuuri replied, then hastily typed out another message. _‘I’d love to come on another walk with you and Makkachin sometime.’_

 _‘Makkachin will be so excited!’_ Viktor’s next message exclaimed. _‘What days are you free?’_

Well that was a laughable question. Yuuri’s free time was few and far between and he prayed that Viktor wouldn’t mind the wait.

 _‘My only day off is Thursday,’_ he texted back, hoping that the whole thing wasn’t going to have to be called off before it had even begun by conflicting schedules of all things. _‘Would that work?’_

 _‘Thursday works for me,’_ came the immediate response. _‘We can go to Washington Square Park. It’s beautiful and they have the dog run there so we can throw some balls for Makkachin and let him play with the other dogs.’_

From what he knew of the city, Yuuri estimated that getting to Washington Square park would probably take him more than half an hour to get to on the subway, but he didn’t mind the travel time. The fact that he would be seeing Viktor at all would make it worth it.

Forcing down any lingering feelings of nervousness and worry, Yuuri confirmed the location and a time and then stuffed his phone back into his pocket, letting out a sigh of relief. It was done now and there was nothing he could do to change it. Whatever happened next, at least he could say that he tried.

“So?” Phichit prompted, looking at him with anticipation. When Yuuri nodded, he let out a whoop of excitement.

“You won’t regret this Yuuri,” Phichit said, looking delighted. “And I call best man at your wedding.”

“Now who’s thinking too far ahead,” Yuuri pointed out, rolling his eyes. Phichit just laughed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Over the next few days, he and Viktor texted almost constantly.

It had all started the day after Yuuri had first messaged Viktor, when he had woken up that morning to receive a picture of a happy looking Makkachin captioned _‘look who’s excited to see you again!’_ Yuuri had immediately texted back his compliments to the dog and the conversation had continued from there.

Viktor had a habit of texting random things during the day. Adorable photos of Makkachin, funny stories about things he had seen, complaints about the dullness of his work. Yuuri replied in kind, feeling a new little thrill run through his body every time he felt the buzz of an incoming message. He had taken to hiding his phone in his pocket at work, taking it out when he hoped no-one was looking to smile at the latest text.

They continued like that throughout the week until finally, the Thursday arrived.

Throughout the whole journey to the park, Yuuri couldn’t stop his leg from bouncing and his hands from twisting themselves into knots. He had spent the entire morning in a state of mild panic, worrying about everything from what he should wear to what he should say. Phichit had eventually thrown him out of the apartment, forcing him to stop second guessing himself.

When he finally arrived at the agreed upon spot, Viktor was waiting for him. Makkachin was sitting by his side, tail thumping on the ground excitedly as Yuuri approached. As soon as Viktor spotted Yuuri he raised a hand in greeting, expression lighting up.

“Hi Viktor,” Yuuri called as he approached, before reaching down to greet Makkachin too. Makkachin leapt up in response, licking Yuuri’s face enthusiastically and pressing his head up against Yuuri’s hand for more petting.

“Hi Yuuri,” Viktor echoed back, crouching down to join him as he continued to lavish attention on Makkachin.

Eventually they both stood again. Viktor took the lead, guiding Yuuri through the park and to the gate of the dog run. The enclosed area was swarming with dogs and owners, relishing in the relative freedom it provided. There were trees and benches scattered around and various dogs were bounding through the open spaces, chasing balls or engaging in playful tussles with each other. Yuuri couldn’t help but think that Vicchan would have loved it.

Once they were safely inside the gate, Viktor leant down and unclipped Makkachin’s leash, allowing him to roam free. Makkachin took the opportunity immediately, bounding away for a few minutes before returning to them, happily panting as he ambled around their feet.

While Makkachin played, Viktor and Yuuri trailed after him, content to watch as they chatted to each other. Eventually, Viktor produced a ball to toss for Makkachin as they walked, but most of his attention was focused on Yuuri. For a long time, their conversation was focused on light topics, making casual conversation and simply enjoying each other’s company.

The more time he spent with Viktor, the more that Yuuri knew he was in trouble. Every time Viktor laughed, Yuuri’s heart clenched a little tighter in his chest and he often found himself mesmerised at the way the sunlight through the trees perfectly highlighted Viktor’s face and the silver sheen of his hair. Seeing Viktor playing with Makkachin was certainly not helping either. Yuuri had always had a soft spot for dogs and seeing Viktor’s devotion to his own one was only making Yuuri fall all the faster.

Playing with Makkachin was also doing wonders for Yuuri’s happiness. He hadn’t realised just how much he had missed having a dog around until Viktor and Makkachin had arrived in his life. Now he wondered how he had ever done without it. Vicchan had been his constant companion in childhood and leaving him behind when he had gone to college had been the hardest thing that Yuuri had ever done. He would never stop regretting the fact that he hadn’t been there when Vicchan had…

Yuuri shook his head, trying to distract himself from those thoughts. Instead, he allowed Makkachin to chase him playful for a while, the dog leaping joyfully around his feet as he tried to keep up. When Yuuri finally grew out of breath and looked back, it was to see Viktor watching them both with a fond expression on his face.

“I’ve never seen someone keep up with Makkachin so well before,” Viktor told him when both he and Makkachin finally returned to his side. “You must have good stamina.”

“I can thank my dancing for that,” Yuuri admitted. He had never been the most skilled dancer in his group, he would be the first to admit that. But he had always been able to keep dancing for hours after the others collapsed from exhaustion. Minako had drilled perseverance and endurance into him from an early age and they were lessons he would never forget.

Viktor hummed in agreement.

“You move like a dancer too,” he mused, glancing over at Yuuri again. “I’d love to see you perform one day.”

Yuuri had to bite back the bitterness that had crept into his throat at the words. Performing again one day was his dream but the more time that passed, the more that dream seemed to slip away from him. It had been over a year since he had been on a stage and he was beginning to despair that he would never get there again.

“What?” Viktor asked curiously, having caught Yuuri’s expression before he managed to smooth it away to one of impassiveness.

“I just…” Yuuri began, trying to think of a good enough excuse. Then he stopped. He and Viktor had grown close in the time that Yuuri had known him, shared many details about their lives. It was probably time that Viktor knew about this too.

“I haven’t danced in a long time,” Yuuri admitted. “Not professionally at least. The night before my first big audition after graduating, I got a call from my sister telling me that my dog had died. And I just…fell apart.”

That night had been the worst of Yuuri’s life. He had stayed up until the early hours of the morning sobbing into his pillow, unable to do anything but mourn the loss of his greatest companion. The next morning, he had torn through the cupboards and eaten all the comfort food he could find until he was almost sick with it. By the time he had showed up for his audition, he was a mess. Thinking about his performance was still painful, even now. To his utter humiliation, he had danced worse than he ever had before, stumbling and slipping with all the grace of a drunken elephant. The disdainful faces of the judges were burned forever into his memory.

“Yuuri, I’m sorry…” Viktor started, looking horrified, but Yuuri cut him off. He didn’t need sympathy, or pity. He had done enough feeling sorry for himself after all.

“It’s alright,” he told Viktor, even though it really wasn’t. “But after that, I lost myself for a while. I was eating badly, I wasn’t training. Eventually I snapped out of it, but the damage was already done.”

The loss of Vicchan and the humiliation of his failed audition had clung to him for months afterwards as Yuuri spiralled further and further down. He could barely drag himself out of bed for work in the morning, let alone seek out more dance auditions for him to potentially humiliate himself at. Not only that, but the dance world was small and rumours spread fast. His reputation as a dancer had taken a huge blow before he had even had the chance to establish himself and he still wasn’t sure if he could ever recover it.

“I picked myself up, started training again,” Yuuri continued, wanting to get the entire story out as quickly as possible and move on. “I got back in shape and started auditioning again. But I just…haven’t found the right job yet.”

That was a lie, but a small one. He had found jobs that were, if not his dream job, at least a good start. Being out of the game for months had left a gap in his résumé and the positions he had been auditioning for as a newly graduated student had already been filled by his year-mates. But there were other jobs, internships and part-time work that he could use as a stepping stone to boost himself back up into the dancing world.

If he could afford it that is. But graduating had brought with it the horror of loan repayments on top of trying to come up with living costs, and Yuuri had been crushed beneath it all. He couldn’t afford internships when he also needed to eat, and part-time work with uncertain hours and no long-term guarantee wouldn’t work when he had rent to pay. The stable work at the café and restaurant plus the tips he made was far from his dream, but at least it paid his bills.

He was still looking, still auditioning. But a year on from his first failure and Yuuri was beginning to lose hope. He was stuck, trapped in a hole that he couldn’t seem to dig himself out of, no matter how hard he tried. But he wasn’t giving up. Not yet at least.

“But I’m doing fine!” he added when he spotted Viktor’s concerned expression. “I still have my jobs here and Phichit to split the bills with. And our apartment in Harlem is very reasonably priced so…”

“Wait, what?” Viktor held up a hand to stop him looking confused. “You live in Harlem? But that’s miles from here!”

“Yes?” Yuuri said slowly, not sure what about that statement had Viktor looking so surprised. “Phichit and I had an old friend who used to live there and when he moved, we were able to rent his apartment for cheap. It’s further away from work than either of us would like, but it’s a friendly neighbourhood so we don’t mind.”

“I just always assumed you lived somewhere around Midtown or Upper West Side, since that’s where I always see you working,” Viktor confessed, his expression guilty. “I wouldn’t have suggested we walk here if I knew you had to travel so far!”

Yuuri still wasn’t really seeing the problem here. It wasn’t like he was unused to long commutes after all. Travelling to the park had barely taken much longer than it took him to get to work each day.

“I should have suggested somewhere closer to you,” Viktor added, now looking apologetic. “How long will it take you to get home?”

“Half an hour or so,” Yuuri shrugged. It would probably take him longer, but Viktor didn’t need to know that.

“Let me give you a ride home then,” Viktor insisted. “It’ll be easier if I drive you.”

Yuuri was immediately caught between his surprise that Viktor had a car, and his exasperation that Viktor had a car. Who needed to drive around Manhattan anyway? There were plenty of ways to get around and Yuuri hadn’t met a single person during his time at college who owned a car in the city. Parking alone was far more trouble and expense than it was worth. But of course Viktor owned a car. Because someone like him would.

Yuuri almost refused, but one look at Viktor’s puppy dog eyes and he caved.

“Alright,” he agreed, crumbling under the power of Viktor’s pleading expression.

“You keep Makkachin entertained here then while I go and get the car,” Viktor told him, looking delighted at Yuuri’s acceptance of his offer.

Without another word he hurried away, leaving Yuuri and Makkachin alone. Without much else to do, Yuuri sat down on one of the many park benches. Makkachin deposited his head in Yuuri’s lap, allowing Yuuri to scratch his ears absentmindedly as they waited for Viktor. After a few minutes, Yuuri’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out to see a text from Viktor, telling him the place to meet.

Yuuri collected their things, clipping Makkachin’s leash back on and exiting the dog park. Quickly, he made his way out of the park and to the spot that Viktor had specified, only to stop in horror at what he saw there.

He probably should have expected that any car owned by Viktor Nikiforov would be ostentatious, but this was something else.

Viktor was sitting in the window of a sleek black car, eyes hidden behind tinted sunglasses and waving to Yuuri, completely ignoring the incredulous looks he was being shot by everyone else on the street. The car stuck out like a sore thumb among the various buses, cabs and occasional SUV that made up the majority of the traffic. It was clearly expensive, sitting low to the ground and so clean it was almost shimmering. The lines of its body were sharp and sleek, presumably to maximise speed. Although Yuuri had no idea where Viktor thought he was going to be able to drive fast in New York traffic.

At least it was black, Yuuri comforted himself as he hurried to the door and slid in, hoping no-one recognised him. It could be worse.

Viktor open the back door for Makkachin and he jumped in, settling in on the back seat. Yuuri almost winced as the dog’s claws scratched at the leather, wondering just how many hundreds of thousands of dollars the car must have cost. Viktor seemed unconcerned, pulling away and zipping off into the mess of the city traffic.

“Driving here is easy compared to driving in Russia,” he said casually as he manoeuvred through traffic and Yuuri sank a little lower in his seat. “Although my car back there is much nicer. When I came here, the company advised that I rent a car to blend in, so I went with this. But back home, my favourite car is custom made. Faster engine, pink paint job. Much better looking than this.”

Yuuri quietly thanked any deity that might exist for the fact that Viktor hadn’t decided to bring that car over with him. A black sports car in New York City was bad enough. A pink one would practically be heresy. It was a small mercy that he had picked something a fraction more inconspicuous.

Due to the traffic, the drive was only marginally shorter than taking the subway would have been, but Yuuri thanked Viktor anyway when they eventually pulled up in front of his apartment building. Some of his neighbours were hanging out in the streets, sitting on doorsteps to catch up with their friends or chatting in small crowds on the corners. Too late, Yuuri realised he probably should have asked Viktor to drop him off several blocks away and walk the rest. Anyone who saw him getting out of a sports car that he very clearly didn’t own with an attractive man in the driver’s seat would never let him live the incident down.

Quickly, he slid out of the car and made his was over to the driver’s side. The window rolled down as he approached and Viktor leaned out, one arm draped casually on the open window and the other still holding the steering wheel loosely.

“Thank you for coming with me today Yuuri,” Viktor told him, leaning out slightly further as he spoke.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Yuuri replied, feeling himself instinctively lean in closer too. “I enjoyed myself.”

It was entirely true. As nervous as he had been before, all that had melted away at the sight of Viktor and the rest of their time together had been more fun than Yuuri had had in a long time. Discounting the mortification of the car of course.

Yuuri almost turned away to leave when the sound of Viktor’s voice stopped him again.

“Yuuri,” Viktor called softly. His voice was low and charming, the same voice that had drawn Yuuri in so successfully on the night they had first met. “I did too. And I’d love to see you again sometime.”

Viktor’s fingers were beating a casual rhythm against the steering wheel as he spoke and his posture was relaxed, eyes still fixed on Yuuri. It was a stark contrast to the way that Yuuri’s heart had suddenly started to race in his chest and his palms had begun sweating.

“Would you like to go to dinner with me?”

For a moment, Yuuri froze. It took him several seconds to process the words, then several more to try and untie his tongue to force out some of his own in return.

It was clear he must have taken too long however because Viktor’s face fell and he leant away, putting some distance between them. Yuuri reached out on instinct, locking his fingers on Viktor’s arm to keep him from moving back any further.

“No, I’d love to go!” Yuuri exclaimed quickly, watching as relief spread across Viktor’s face. “But, um…when? And where?”

Thankfully, Viktor didn’t seem to mind the fumbling of his words. Instead, he looked almost charmed.

“When are you free?” he asked.

Yuuri mentally ran through a list of his upcoming shifts, cursing his lack of free time. He couldn’t wait another an entire week for his next day off, the anticipation would kill him.

“I could do Sunday,” he offered instead. “I’m working the morning and afternoon shifts, so I should be free in the evening.”  

“Sunday evening it is,” Viktor confirmed with a charming grin. “I’ll pick you up here at seven. Leave the rest to me.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“I have nothing to wear,” Yuuri groaned, slumping face first onto his bed in despair.

Phichit eyed his wardrobe critically.

“No, you really don’t,” he replied unhelpfully. Reaching out, he flicked through Yuuri’s assortment of worn jeans and old t-shirts, face unimpressed. Yuuri had known it had been a long time since he had been able to justify buying himself any new clothes, but he hadn’t realised just how dire the situation had gotten before he had tried to start getting ready for his date with Viktor. Everything he own was either old, casual, or his uniforms.

“What about this?” Phichit asked, pulling a pile of black fabric on a hanger from the very back of Yuuri’s wardrobe. When Yuuri looked up from where his face had been buried in the pillows, he saw that Phichit was holding the only suit he owned. It was what he used for important meetings or interviews, not that he had had many of those recently.

“Considering what Viktor wears every day, it’s probably better to risk overdressing than under,” Phichit added, tossing the suit at Yuuri. “I doubt someone with his kind of money is going to take you to dinner anywhere where jeans are part of the dress code.”

Yuuri stifled another groan, shoving his head back into his pillow. After the time he had spent with Viktor walking Makkachin together, the difference between them suddenly hadn’t seemed quite so impossible to bridge anymore. They both had similar interests, similar senses of humour, a shared love of dogs. It was only when Phichit had pointed out that a dinner date with Viktor was likely to involve a five star restaurant and food Yuuri would never be able to afford that he had started panicking again.

“Why did I agree to this?” he asked Phichit mournfully, rolling over to pick up the suit and already wincing over the cheap cut. Much as he liked Viktor, all he wanted was a normal date. A normal relationship. The thought of sitting opposite Viktor in an expensive restaurant wearing an old suit while Viktor wore Tom Ford and probably didn’t even check the prices on the menus wasn’t doing good things to his self-confidence.

“Because you’re lonely and he’s hot and nice and has a cute dog,” Phichit countered, shooting Yuuri a teasing look. Then he turned back to Yuuri’s wardrobe again. “Do you have a tie?”

Yuuri grunted an affirmative before forcing himself to sit up. Quickly he brushed down the suit, glad to see it wasn’t creased at least. Phichit continued to rummage around in his wardrobe, searching for the tie Yuuri was sure was buried in there somewhere.

“Wow, this is hideous,” Phichit remarked, re-emerging form the wardrobe with Yuuri’s light blue tie clutched in his hand. “Please tell me you have another one. Preferably black.”

When Yuuri shook his head, Phichit just sighed. Yuuri couldn’t help but be slightly offended. He liked that tie after all.

Phichit tossed the strip of fabric to him and Yuuri caught it before gathering up the rest of the suit. He changed quickly, pulling the clothes into place before slicking back his hair and discarding his glasses. When he was finally finished, Phichit looked him over with a critical eye before giving him a nod of approval.

“Should I make myself scarce this evening?” Phichit asked him when he was ready, a smirk curling at the corners of his lips. “Or invest in some earplugs?”

“No,” Yuuri shot back, although he could already feel the heat rising in his cheeks at the implication of the words. “I’m not going to bring Viktor back here on our first date.”

“Your second date,” Phichit pointed out with a wink, ignoring the look that Yuuri shot him.

“It doesn’t matter, I’m still not bringing him home tonight. Or going home with him,” Yuuri added at Phichit’s suggestive look.

Thankfully, there was no time to continue the conversation because it was at that moment that Yuuri’s phone buzzed with an incoming text. When Yuuri looked down at the screen it was to see Viktor’s name staring back at him, the text beneath informing Yuuri that he was waiting outside.

Grabbing his jacket, Yuuri practically sprinted out of the door, calling out a rushed goodbye to Phichit as he left. He half ran, half stumbled down the stairs, feeling the nerves hit him again in full force and not wanting to keep Viktor waiting. When he reached the front door, he took a few seconds to compose himself before stepping out onto the street, forcing himself to ignore the churning of his gut and the racing of his heart.

Viktor’s car was waiting outside, looking just as obnoxious and out of place as it had a few days previously. Yuuri barely noticed though. All his attention was focused on the man sitting in the driver’s seat.

The window was rolled down and Viktor was leaning out, looking as handsome as ever. The shirt and jacket he was wearing were dark, contrasting nicely with the silver of his hair. His eyes locked on Yuuri the minute Yuuri walked out the building and he waved him over, as if Yuuri could somehow miss the car waiting for him that was probably worth more than his entire apartment block.

“You look good tonight,” Viktor complimented as Yuuri approached, his eyes raking over Yuuri’s form.

“You do too,” Yuuri replied as he made his way over to the passenger side of the car and slipped inside. Somehow, Viktor looked even better from inside the car. His face was lit up softly by the last of the dying sunlight and his eyes glinted as they drank in the sight of Yuuri. In such an enclosed space, Yuuri could have sworn he could even smell Viktor’s aftershave, just as sharp and intoxicating as it had been the last time. Reaching up, Yuuri tugged at his collar, wondering how the car had somehow managed to heat up several degrees in the few seconds since he had sat down.

Viktor started the car and pulled away, the engine purring softly beneath them. The route he took headed downtown, the car gliding between honking taxis and irritated drivers. Viktor seemed not to notice, striking up casual conversation as they drove. Yuuri watched the streets pass as they spoke and tried to figure out exactly where they were going. Viktor had specified going to dinner for their date but not the actual restaurant he was planning on taking Yuuri to.

When they finally pulled up outside the building, Yuuri was very glad that he had worn a suit. The restaurant towered above him, the front entrance bracketed by immaculate white pillars and artfully arranged trees in gilded pots. It was the kind of place he was far more used to entering using the staff entrance at the back, not being ushered through the front door.

Viktor got out of the car before Yuuri, hurrying to Yuuri’s side to open his door and offer out a hand. Yuuri took it, trying not to blush at the gesture as he allowed Viktor to help him out of the car. Together, they walked into the restaurant arm in arm. Viktor was pressed close to his side, his warmth seeping into Yuuri wherever their bodies touched.

As soon as they set foot inside the building however, the pleasure of having Viktor near was almost forgotten as Yuuri looked around, trying to stifle the sinking feeling in his chest. It was clear that he was even more out of place than he had first thought. Even a single glance left him feeling incredibly shabby in comparison to the grandeur of the room.

The restaurant was huge, lit with glittering chandeliers. Artistic black and white photographs lined the walls, interspersed with huge windows that looked out onto the glowing lights of the city. The chairs were lined with the softest leather, tucked under tables gleaming with silverware and sparkling crystal glasses. The room was filled with a low and pleasant chatter, the other patrons immersed in conversation as waiters flitted back and forth between tables.

When he looked to his side, Viktor was looking perfectly at ease, seemingly not noticing Yuuri’s discomfort. He fit the room perfectly, such a contrast to Yuuri himself. It was almost enough to make Yuuri shy away, but then Viktor turned to him with excitement clear in his face and Yuuri forced himself to push his worries away. He might feel out of place but as long as Viktor didn’t notice, he would have to force himself not to care.

“I brought you to one of my favourite places,” Viktor told Yuuri as they were lead to their seats by a smiling waiter. “The food here is delicious.”

Looking around, Yuuri was sure that he would agree. Every morsel on plates of the diners surrounding him was artistically placed and the smells wafting through the air were heavenly.

“A friend recommended it to me when I first moved to New York,” Viktor continued as they sat down. “He has a much more extensive knowledge of the finer things in this city than I do.”

“Have I met him?” Yuuri asked curiously. He had never spoken to any of Viktor’s acquaintances personally, but he had served several of them and he never forgot a face.

“No,” Viktor shook his head with a smile. “Chris doesn’t work with me. We’re old friends, we went to boarding school together.” 

“Boarding school?” Yuuri asked, raising a questioning eyebrow. He could hardly picture Viktor as the typical boarding school type.  

 “Le Rosey, in Switzerland,” Viktor elaborated, his voice suddenly sounding almost subdued. “My father sent me there when I was eight. Only the best for his son.”

There was a hint bitterness to Viktor’s voice, something hidden in the words that he wasn’t saying. But before Yuuri could ask, Viktor had already moved swiftly on.

“I met Chris there and we’ve been friends ever since,” Viktor told him, fondness clear in his voice. “He still in lives Switzerland, his family have been involved with banking there for generations. But Chris enjoys travelling the world so he shows up on my doorstep every now and then to drag me out and have some fun. He always complains that I work too hard.”

The last part was said with a light chuckle, Viktor’s eyes far away and clearly lost in a memory.

“It sounds like he and Phichit would get along,” Yuuri said fondly as Viktor’s eyes flicked back to him. Phichit was one of the hardest working people that Yuuri had ever met, but he also had one of the most active social lives of anyone Yuuri knew. He balanced working hard and playing hard in the way that Yuuri had never managed and he was always insisting that Yuuri needed to relax more and enjoy the moment, rather than endlessly worrying about the future.

Viktor hummed his agreement.

“How did you and he meet?” he asked curiously. Viktor had met Phichit multiple times before at the café, but they had never held an extended conversation before. Yuuri supposed he should be glad of that. Phichit had so many embarrassing stories about Yuuri from their years together that he would probably be able to scare Viktor off within the first five minutes, or make it so that Yuuri would never be able to look him in the eye again.

“College,” Yuuri replied, in answer to Viktor’s question. “My degree involved a partnership between the dance school and a local university. I met Phichit there when he came to study visual arts. He wants to be a photographer someday.”

Before the conversation could continue any further however, they were both interrupted by the arrival of another waiter. When the man asked if they were ready to order and Yuuri panicked, realising he hadn’t even looked at the menu yet. Far too caught up in his conversation with Viktor. Viktor didn’t seem bothered, simply ordering some drinks and sending the man away while Yuuri picked up the menu and scanned it quickly.

His original plan had been to pick the cheapest thing he could find, even if it had meant suffering through an evening of salad. But, to Yuuri’s horror, he found that there were no prices listed anywhere on the menu. Apparently rich people didn’t need to care about something as trivial as the price of food when they had money to burn.

When the waiter returned with their drinks, Yuuri still hadn’t decided. Everything on the menu sounded expensive and so when he was asked his choice he panicked, picking something at random. Viktor didn’t seem to notice that anything was wrong, turning back to Yuuri and picking up their conversation where they had left off.

For a few minutes, Yuuri remained tense, the worries from earlier that evening returning in full force. But gradually, he allowed himself to relax back into the familiar ease of talking with Viktor. They shared stories of their times in college, Yuuri carefully selecting ones that were entertaining but not too embarrassing. Viktor would have to wait until he had a lot more to drink before Yuuri would be ready to reveal any of his…finer moments. Although Phichit still had the photos of what had been dubiously named ‘the champagne and pole dancing incident’ and would probably show them to Viktor someday just to see Yuuri squirm.

Viktor replied back in kind, talking about his schooldays and the trouble he and Chris had gotten into together. Yuuri chipped in with stories about Hasetsu, of Yuuko and Minako and his family at the onsen. By the time the food arrived, they were so deep in conversation that they hardly noticed.

Yuuri only registered the food when a plate was placed directly in front of him, filling the air with a tantalising aroma. The first bite sent a flood of sensation across his tongue and he couldn’t restrain himself from moaning in pleasure.

“Good food?” Viktor asked, voice sounding slightly strangled. When Yuuri looked up, it was to see two spots of colour high on Viktor’s cheeks as he stared at Yuuri.

Yuuri nodded, swallowing his bite and sighing in satisfaction.

They continued to talk as they ate, Yuuri trapped between savouring the delicious food and listening to Viktor. Viktor was an animated storyteller, talking enthusiastically and gesturing wildly and Yuuri found himself easily caught up in the stories that Viktor told. Sometimes however, he was simply mesmerised by Viktor himself, completely forgetting to listen to the words that Viktor was saying as he lost himself in the blue of Viktor’s eyes and the gentle lull of his voice.

They talked well into the night, even as the restaurant emptied around them. It was only when they were practically the last ones left that they finally stood up to leave. Yuuri almost offered to pay his fair share of the meal, but before he could, Viktor had already picked up the check like it was nothing. Much as Yuuri wanted to pay his part, it was almost a relief. There was no way he could have afforded the food, not even if he wanted to. He would just have to make sure the next date was on him, preferably somewhere a bit more reasonably priced.

After they had paid, Viktor escorted him back to the car, still talking animatedly. Yuuri clung onto every word, not wanting the night to end. The more time he spent with Viktor, the more he craved his company. There might be differences between them, but there were so many parts where they seemed to fit so easily together, like two pieces of a puzzle finally falling into place, perfectly aligned.

They continued to talk as they drove home, Viktor entertaining Yuuri with stories of his many failed attempts to house train Makkachin and the chaos that had followed. The thought of a tiny Viktor chasing after a mischievous puppy Makkachin was almost too adorable for Yuuri to handle. As they sped through the streets, he told Viktor his own stories of trying to house train Vicchan, Viktor’s laughter filling the car as Yuuri told him about time Vicchan had snuck into the bathhouse and chewed up the towels of the customers bathing there.

When they finally pulled up outside his apartment building, Yuuri could barely bring himself to leave the car. Instead, he glanced up at his building, noting the light still shining in the window of his apartment. From the look of it, Phichit had probably stayed up late for him, waiting to hear how the evening had gone.

“I have to go,” Yuuri told Viktor reluctantly. Viktor nodded, looking equally reluctant.

“I’ll walk you to your door,” he offered as they got out of the car together. “To make sure you get inside safely.”

“You don’t need to,” Yuuri told him, but he allowed Viktor to take his hand anyway. It was only a few meters to his doorstep but getting the chance to stay with Viktor a little longer was fine by him.

“But I want to,” Viktor replied, voice low and inviting as they walked towards the door together. When they finally reached the doorstep, Yuuri turned around, feeling his heart racing in his chest at the tone of Viktor’s voice and the feeling of their fingers twining together.

“Why?” he asked, hoping that he already knew the answer. The heat between them had been building for so long now and Yuuri wanted nothing more than to give in to it. To allow himself to be swept away in a tide of feeling with only Viktor to cling on to. To allow himself this, when in his life he had been denied so much.

“So that I can do this,” Viktor murmured, words hushed and voice sending a shiver up Yuuri’s spine. There were standing in the doorway now, illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlight and Viktor had never looked so beautiful. His eyes were dark and full of want but his hands were gentle when he cupped Yuuri’s face, fingers stroking lightly across his cheeks.

Tilting his head slightly in question, Viktor waited for a few agonising seconds, giving Yuuri the chance to pull away. Yuuri just pressed in closer, stepping forward until they were almost touching, breath mingling in the night air. When Viktor leaned in, Yuuri could almost taste the anticipation but nothing could have prepared him for the overwhelming sensation of the moment when Viktor’s lips pressed against his.

The kiss started off gentle, but it didn’t remain that way for long. The chaste press of lips against his was enough to send the heat in Yuuri’s chest spiking and he pulled Viktor to him, kissing back with a passion that surprised even himself. Viktor responded in kind, hands sliding around Yuuri’s waist as his held him close and stole Yuuri’s breath away.

To Yuuri, it felt like hours. But in reality, he knew that it must only have been a few seconds when they finally broke apart, both breathing heavily. When Yuuri looked up into Viktor’s eyes, he could see that Viktor’s pupils were blown wide with desire. Yuuri’s heart was racing in his chest, thumping so hard he swore he could feel it pulsing against his ribcage. The place where Viktor’s lips had touched was still tingling, sending sparks of sensation running across Yuuri’s skin.

Gently, Viktor pulled away, the reluctance clear in his face.

“I should go,” he murmured, although it sounded almost like he was trying to convince himself. Yuuri nodded reluctantly, taking a step back and trying to calm his racing heart.

“Will I see you again?” he blurted out, wincing internally at how desperate it sounded. He hadn’t meant to phrase it like that, but the words had just slipped out. He had loved the evening more than he could say, but he didn’t want to just assume that Viktor was intending to continue their relationship and only be disappointed later if it turned out not to be true.

“Of course,” Viktor replied, looking surprised at Yuuri’s question. Then his face softened and he smiled, taking Yuuri’s hands in his again. “For as long as you want me.”

For a few seconds he lingered, fingers twined with Yuuri’s own. Then finally he let go, stepping back and away from Yuuri again.

“Goodnight Yuuri,” Viktor said, affection clear in every word.

With that, he turned and walked away, back into the night. Yuuri was left standing on the doorstep, the ghost of the kiss still lingering on his lips and his heart singing with happiness.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally they're getting somewhere! 
> 
> As usual you can find me on [tumblr](http://kazliin.tumblr.com/) for more of my fic writing and general YOI. 
> 
> Also, many thanks to Adele for her help, it's thanks to her knowledge of NYC that I can write this fic and her experiences of staying in Harlem is the reason that I decided to have Yuuri living there. I couldn't have done it without her!
> 
> See you all next time!


	4. Chapter 4

Yuuri spotted Phichit as soon as he opened the door. 

His friend was sprawled out on their single couch, legs dangling over the end and one arm propped up behind his head. His phone was in his hand, the bright light of the screen casting an eerily pale glow onto his face. Yuuri could read the tiredness in his slumped posture and dropping eyelids.

All of that melted away as soon as the click of the door closing rang out in the apartment however. Phichit’s eyes snapped up, locking onto Yuuri’s face. The instant their eyes met, Phichit’s expression lit up and he leapt up from the couch, bounding over to where Yuuri was standing.

“How did it go?” Phichit asked, grinning widely. “You’re smiling, so something good must have happened.

“It was...” Yuuri trailed off, not quite sure how to put the evening into words.

His lips were still tingling with the lingering sensation of Viktor’s kiss and even the mere memory sent sparks of electricity dancing across his skin. He could still feel the pulse of his heart, beating out a frantic rhythm that betrayed just how much Viktor had affected him. The buzz of happiness in his chest that had grown as the evening progressed hadn’t faded in the slightest and it lingered on, even now.

“It was good,” he finally settled on. It was a huge understatement but there were no words available to him to sum up exactly how he was feeling.

Phichit looked at him expectantly, waiting for more.

“So what was it like?” Phichit prompted when Yuuri remained silent. “Where did he take you? Did you kiss him? Do you want to see him again?”

“I do,” Yuuri confessed in answer to Phichit’s last question, knowing that it would be the easiest to answer. Despite his initial misgivings, there was nothing he now wanted more than to see Viktor again. His original worries and concerns were still there, lurking just beneath the surface, but it had been so easy to fall into a comfortable rhythm with Viktor. So nice to sit together and swap stories, to know and be known in return. So addictive to taste Viktor’s kiss and crave it over and over again, even after they had parted.

“I’m happy for you Yuuri,” Phichit told him, looking pleased at his response. “You deserve to have something good in your life for a change.”

Taking Yuuri by the arm, Phichit dragged him over to the couch and pulled him down so that they were sitting side by side.

“So,” Phichit continued. “Tell me more. I want to know everything.”

Yuuri paused for a moment, trying to decide where to begin. The whole evening had felt like a whirlwind. He had been swept up in Viktor’s easy charm from the moment it had begun and he was still giddy from it even now.

“He took me to this restaurant,” Yuuri began, figuring it was best to start with the basics. “And you should have seen it Phichit. It was so fancy. I’m glad I wore the suit because otherwise...”

He shook his head as he trailed off, thinking of the glitz and glamour of the restaurant and the impeccably dressed patrons. Even in a suit he had felt dull and shabby by comparison. Anything less and he’d have probably fled out the door before the starters arrived.

“Well, at least you know he knows how to treat you right if that’s the kind of place he chooses for a first date” Phichit pointed out, sounding mildly impressed.

Yuuri nodded, deciding not to mention just how out of place he had felt during the whole thing. The date location that Viktor had chosen had been nice in theory. But in practice, not so much. The food had been excellent and the company more so but throughout the entire thing, the quiet undercurrent of unease had never left him. He had been constantly analysing and overthinking, comparing himself to everything around him and finding himself lacking.

But that wasn’t something that Phichit needed to know. Nor was it something he wanted to think about because overall, he had enjoyed himself. More than enjoyed himself, he had loved the time he had spent with Viktor, regardless of the location. He could ignore the rest and focus on that instead.

“So, what did you do during dinner?” Phichit continued, a teasing smile quirking at the corners of his lips. “Stare dumbly at his gorgeous face all evening like you do every time he’s in the café? Play footsie under the table? Screw in the restaurant bathroom? Come on Yuuri, give me some details.”

“No!” Yuuri spluttered, smacking Phichit’s shoulder and looking at him reproachfully. He knew that his friend was just winding him up but it always worked regardless.

“We just...talked,” he replied, thinking back onto the evening that had just passed and not even trying to stop the pleased smile that he knew was spreading across his face at the memories. Just sitting and talking had never been so appealing before Viktor. But now, Yuuri could do it with him for hours. Every new detail he learned about Viktor’s life he cherished and every story of his own was freely given.

When Yuuri looked back to Phichit, his friend was looking at him, one eyebrow raised and gaze assessing.

“What?” Yuuri asked, feeling self conscious all of a sudden.

“Nothing,” Phichit said fondly. “It’s just, I’ve never seen you look this happy about a date before.”

“I’ve been happy about dates before,” Yuuri protested, feeling a little insulted. His romantic life might have been seriously lacking in the past year or so but before that, he had been on the occasional date or two. They might never have worked out in the long run, but he wasn’t completely useless at romance.

“No,” Phichit replied, poking him playfully in the side and making Yuuri squirm. “You usually come home from a first date panicking about everything that you think went wrong and sabotage yourself before you even get started. This is a nice change. Viktor must really be something special.”

“He is.”

Phichit looked satisfied with the answer. Then, after a few seconds, his expression suddenly turned sly.

“You still haven’t answered the most important question yet” he told Yuuri and Yuuri braced himself for whatever was about to come. “Did you kiss him?”

Yuuri could feel the colour rise in his cheeks as he remembered exactly how the evening had ended. He didn’t reply, but his silence was confirmation enough.

“You did!” Phichit exclaimed, sounding gleefully proud.

Yuuri knew that he was still blushing, but even the memory of Viktor’s lips was enough to bring a smile to his face all the same.

“From the way you two were looking at each other, I knew it couldn’t be long,” Phichit joked, nudging Yuuri gently. “How did it happen?”

“He offered to walk me to the door, then kissed me on the doorstep,” Yuuri confessed. Normally, he hated talking about his private life with anyone, but Phichit was different. They had lived in each other’s pockets for years and there was almost nothing they didn’t know about each other after all that time. Phichit shared everything with him and he was one of the few people that Yuuri was willing to open up to in return.

“So he’s got some moves after all,” Phichit teased. Yuuri just rolled his eyes, not deigning that with a response.

“Was he a good kisser?” Phichit added with a mischievous grin.

“Phichit!” Yuuri exclaimed, a little scandalised. Phichit just raised an eyebrow, waiting.

Yuuri sighed, then conceded.

“Yes,” he admitted, knowing that it was futile not to fill his friend in on all the details. Phichit would get them out of him eventually regardless.

“Hot as hell, good date and a good kisser,” Phichit listed, ticking the items off on his fingers theatrically. “It sounds like you’ve hit the jackpot with this one Yuuri.”

Yuuri nodded absentmindedly, mind still on Viktor. Their date had gone so well, much better than he had expected. And Phichit was right, everything about Viktor seemed too good to be true.

But it was true. And it was his. For now at least.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Yuuri was awoken by the chime of his phone. Blearily, he fumbled for the device, knocking various items off his bedside table in the process. When he finally had it in his hand he sat up, rubbing sleep out of his eyes before peering at the screen. 

Viktor’s name shone brightly back at him, a message hovering beneath it.

All of Yuuri’s residual tiredness drained away in an instant. Suddenly alert, he glanced at the message, heart leaping in his chest at the mere sight of Viktor’s name.

_‘Thank you for last night Yuuri,_ ’ the text read, the words sending a flood of warmth through Yuuri as he stared at them. ‘ _I had a really good time.’_

_“I did too,”_ he wrote back instantly.

Part of him, a part that sounded very much like Phichit, reminded him that he should probably leave at least a few minutes before he responded. He didn’t want to look desperate after all, like he had just been hovering by his phone waiting for Viktor to text.

Yuuri ignored that part.

Viktor clearly didn’t have a problem with instantly texting back either because another message flashed up on Yuuri’s screen mere seconds later.

_‘I can’t wait to see you again,’_ it read. Yuuri could feel a smile break out on his face and he clutched the phone a little tighter, the edges digging into his palm.

Before he had the chance to reply however, his phone buzzed in his hand again. But this time, it was accompanied by the familiar tune of his alarm blaring out in the quiet of the room. Viktor’s text had woken him up early, but apparently only by a few minutes. His phone continued to buzz, reminding him that he needed to get up if he wanted to make it into work on time.

Sighing, Yuuri hit the button to shut the alarm off and rolled out of bed. Through the paper-thin walls of the house, he could hear the familiar tune of ‘Shall We Skate’ drifting from Phichit’s room, signifying his friend’s alarm had also just gone off. When Yuuri stuck his head out of his door, it was to see Phichit doing the same, looking extremely unhappy at being woken up so early on a Monday morning.

Phichit didn’t have class until Monday afternoon, so both he and Yuuri worked the early morning shift at Celestino’s. Then, Phichit would head off to class at lunchtime and Yuuri would continue his longer shift, envying Phichit greatly. College might have been stressful, but compared to work, it was definitely the lesser of the two evils.

Reluctantly, Yuuri got ready for work, hearing the muffled sounds of Phichit doing the same in the room next door. When they were both ready to go, they headed to the subway together. Both of them were still yawning as they hopped on the train, speeding along the familiar route towards Upper West Side. Yuuri used the commute time to continue texting Viktor, only putting his phone away reluctantly when they finally reached their stop.

The café was only a short walk from the subway station and as soon as he was inside, Yuuri made a beeline straight for the coffee machines. First thing on a Monday morning, he was in desperate need of some caffeine before he was ready to start the day. Celestino ran a very relaxed business and he usually allowed the staff to make themselves a free drink in the morning as long as they did it before the customers arrived.

“Hi you two,” Guang Hong chirruped brightly as Yuuri poured himself a generous shot of coffee and downed it in one go. “How was your weekend?”

“Oh you know, just the usual,” Phichit replied as he grabbed his apron and joined Guang Hong behind the counter. “Things to do, essays to write, parties to go to.”

From the other side of the room, Seung-gil glanced up briefly from where he had been setting out tables, then returned to work again without comment. He had never been much of one for small talk.

“What about you Yuuri?” Guang Hong asked, still unfailingly enthusiastic.

“Nothing much,” Yuuri shrugged.

Phichit shot him a disbelieving look.

“Yuuri went on a date,” Phichit announced, like a traitor.

Yuuri hadn’t been intending to hide his newly growing relationship with Viktor, but he also hadn’t been planning on announcing it to his work colleagues just yet either.

“Really?” Guang Hong asked, turning to Yuuri curiously. “Who with?”

From across the café, there was a derisive snort. All three of them turned to look at Seung-gil, who was staring at Guang Hong in mild disbelief.

“Who’s the one person we all know has been chasing after Yuuri for weeks?” he asked in a deadpan voice.

A look of understanding dawned on Guang Hong’s face.

“Did Viktor finally ask you out?” he gasped and Yuuri resisted the urge to sigh. Having his extremely new relationship become part of the café’s incessant gossip hadn’t been how he had been intending to start the morning. Although, he supposed, Phichit might have done him a favour by getting it over with quickly. It was never going to stay a secret for long after all. Not when everyone he worked with already knew Viktor and had seen their growing closeness over the past few weeks. At least this way, he could get the inevitable questions out of the way early and hopefully never talk about it again.

“Yes,” he confirmed, hoping the conversation would end there.

Thankfully, the first customer of the day chose that exact moment to walk through the door, saving Yuuri from any further questions. From the disappointed look on Guang Hong’s face, his curiosity hadn’t been satisfied but there wasn’t time for any further interrogation. Instead, Yuuri threw himself into his work, using it as a shield to hide behind to avoid any further conversation.

The first trickle of customers gradually grew into a steady stream as the morning progressed, effectively keeping everyone’s mind off anything that wasn’t making orders or clearing tables. Monday mornings were always busy. Students stumbled in, downing coffee like shots to prepare for early classes or chase away the hangovers of the weekend. The occasional businessperson hurried through, talking on their phones or grabbing drinks quickly before dashing away to whatever meeting they were late for.

The sight made Yuuri think fondly of Viktor and his phone felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket, tempting him. He usually tried to grab a few minutes to text Viktor when the café was quiet but, with the rush of customers that day, he wasn’t able to find the time. It was only when his lunch break finally rolled around that Yuuri was able to escape.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he opened his messages to Viktor and typed in a quick ‘ _sorry, got stuck in wor_ k,’ to explain his absence.

‘ _Busy day?’_ came the reply after a few minutes. He and Viktor often swapped stories about the respective jobs during the day and by now, Viktor knew just how much Yuuri hated the morning rush.

‘ _Yeah,’_ he texted back quickly. _‘You?’_

‘ _Same here_ ,’ Viktor replied and Yuuri could almost hear his displeasure through the message. ‘ _I’ve been stuck in a meeting all morning and it feels like it’s never going to end.’_

Yuuri almost began typing out a sympathetic reply when another message popped up on his screen, directly under the last.

‘ _I’d much rather be with you.’_

Yuuri stared at it for a moment, feeling a pleasant warmth blossom in his chest at the words.

‘ _Me too,_ ’ he texted back, feeling somehow strangely lighter.

When he returned back to work once his break was over, he was smiling.

 

* * *

 

 

The next couple of weeks passed in a blur of work and Viktor.

Unfortunately, neither of their schedules were particularly well aligned. Yuuri often had shifts when Viktor had time off and Viktor had important meetings and business functions to attend to when Yuuri was finally free. It was endlessly frustrating, but they made use of the time they had.

The office building where Viktor spent most of his day was relatively close to Yuuri’s work, so Yuuri had taken to walking over during his lunch breaks to spend whatever time with Viktor that they could grab. Although he still hadn’t raised the issue of paying yet. Wherever they met for lunch, Viktor always reached automatically for the check and Yuuri hadn’t found the right time to address the issue. It wasn’t that he was ungrateful. It was only that he didn’t like relying so much on Viktor’s generosity without being able to give back anything in return. It was an unpleasant feeling. Too much like uselessness. Like weakness.

On the days that Yuuri was too busy to come, Viktor would visit him instead. He had become a regular sight at the café, much to the amusement of everyone who worked there but Yuuri. They teased him about it constantly, good natured jabs about his love life and new boyfriend. Yuuri ignored it all. He could take the teasing if it meant getting to spend a shift in Viktor’s presence, even if it was sometimes too busy to properly talk.

Another thing that had become one of their regular dates was taking Makkachin for walks in the park. Yuuri liked spending time with the dog almost as much as he liked spending it with Viktor, which meant combining the two often resulted in his favourite days. It was simple, but Yuuri preferred it over any kind of elaborate date. Just playing with Makkachin and walking with Viktor, talking about everything under the sun. He had told Viktor as much too, and Viktor seemed happy to indulge his wishes.

It was going surprisingly well, much better than Yuuri had ever expected. Truthfully, he had entered every part of his relationship with Viktor under the expectation that it might fall apart at any moment. Their first casual flirtation that the restaurant when he assumed he would never see Viktor again, so what did it matter? The crush that had continued to grow the more Viktor had shown up at the café, which was harmless because Yuuri was sure that nothing could come of it. The first date, where Yuuri had convinced himself that surely it couldn’t last. Not between people like them.

But so far it had, and Yuuri was incredibly grateful for it. He could almost forget all the reasons why dating Viktor was a bad idea when they were together, all the worries chased away by the sound of Viktor’s laugh or the taste of his kiss.

Even when they didn’t see each other in person, they kept in constant contact. Viktor had taken to sending Yuuri good morning texts to make him smile when he woke up, and they kept up a steady stream of messages throughout the day. The buzz of his phone was now a familiar comfort in his pocket at work and Yuuri usually tried to read the messages surreptitiously during his shift, not wanting to wait until his breaks to reply.

It was what he was doing currently, smiling down at the latest message that Viktor had sent while pretending to busy himself making coffee. Yuuri was doing two shifts that day, the café in the morning and the restaurant in the evening, but he and Viktor had arranged to meet during the few hours he had off in the middle. It wasn’t ideal. Yuuri would much rather spend the whole evening with Viktor rather than having their time cut short, but it was better than nothing.

“Is that Viktor?” A voice asked from over his shoulder and Yuuri jumped, spinning around to see Phichit grinning back at him.

“No,” he replied on instinct, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. Phichit didn’t look convinced.

“You only ever smile at your phone like that when you’re texting Viktor,” he pointed out and Yuuri nodded, admitting defeat. Phichit knew him too well.

“Got another hot date today?” Phichit asked, bumping his shoulder playfully into Yuuri’s. Much as he liked to tease Yuuri about his newfound relationship, Yuuri knew that Phichit was genuinely interested. He had supported them from the beginning and seemed delighted that Yuuri somehow hadn’t managed to screw the whole thing up yet.

“Viktor’s picking me up once my shift is over,” Yuuri replied, glancing up at the clock on the wall. It was almost time for him to leave. Just another few minutes and he’d be free. “We’re taking Makkachin for a walk in the park.”

Phichit rolled his eyes, looking a little exasperated.

“Yuuri, when I joked about you dating Viktor for his dog, I didn’t actually mean it,” Phichit said with an exaggerated sigh. “Surely there are more exciting things you both could be doing than taking his dog for a walk. You know Viktor. He’d take you anywhere you wanted and he has the money to do it. He’d probably fly you out for a romantic weekend in Paris right now if you asked him to. You’re clearly not using this to it’s full advantage!”

“I don’t want to _use_ Viktor,” Yuuri shot back, and the words came out harsher than he had intended.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Phichit told him softly.

Yuuri sighed and then nodded, acknowledging the truth of the words. He knew that Phichit was only teasing him, and he also knew that Phichit was right. After their first real date at the restaurant, Yuuri had attempted to keep their dates as local and lost cost as he could. Viktor had dropped hints on more than one occasion about treating Yuuri to something nicer, but each time Yuuri had found an excuse to steer them back to the basics. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to. Some of Viktor’s suggestions were definitely tempting. But he already felt enough in Viktor’s debt as it was. Allowing Viktor to treat him over and over again would only remind him of all the reasons he had been worried about their relationship in the first place. Dog walking and lunch dates were easy. They were safe.

Before the conversation could continue however, it was cut short when the door of the café flew open and a panting Guang Hong stumbled inside. His face was flushed and sweaty and he was out of breath, like he had just been running. Yuuri glanced up at the clock again, surprised to see that Guang Hong was several minutes late for the start of his shift. That was unusual, considering the teenager was usually incredibly punctual.

“Sorry I’m late,” Guang Hong gasped, bending over with his hands resting on his knees as he recovered. “I lost track of time.”

Seung-gil raised one eyebrow sceptically and Guang Hong’s face turned impossibly redder.

“I, uh...had a date,” he mumbled. “And I got distracted.”

Yuuri, Phichit and Otabek all looked at him with varying degrees of surprise.

“A date? With who?” Otabek asked curiously. “You’ve never had a date before.”

Guang Hong mumbled something indistinct, still looking suitably embarrassed.

“Don’t torture the poor kid Otabek,” Phichit joked lightly, clapping Otabek on the back and shooting Guang Hong a sympathetic look. “He’ll tell us if he wants us to know.”

“Hey!” Yuuri exclaimed, feeling a little indignant. “How come you let Guang Hong get off that easily but my relationship is everyone’s favourite topic of gossip.”

“Because you’re way more fun to tease,” Phichit replied with a shit-eating grin. Then his eyes flickered over to one of the large windows in the side of the building that looked out onto the street. “And also, because your boyfriend looks like _that_.”

Yuuri followed Phichit’s gaze through the window and instantly realised what must have caught his friend’s eye.

Viktor was standing outside, leaning casually on the side of his car and drawing the attention of everyone that passed by. He was dressed casually by his standards, in a loose-fitting blue shirt and dark glasses shading his eyes. His arms were crossed as he lounged against his ridiculous car but as soon as he spotted Yuuri looking he waved, face lighting up. The pedestrians passing him by were shooting him a mixture of appreciative and incredulous looks, and some of the customers in the café were beginning to do the same.

Yuuri was stuck between the sudden urge to sprint out of the café and jump Viktor immediately, or slide beneath the counter and never come up again. Viktor looked as unfairly attractive as ever, enough to give Yuuri several thoughts that were definitely not appropriate to be having at work. But he also stuck out like a sore thumb, somehow even more than usual.

When Yuuri turned back to the room, it was to see all four of his co-workers staring out of the window with varying degrees of incredulity on their faces. Staring at Viktor or, more accurately, at the car he was leaning against. Somehow, Yuuri hadn’t considered when agreeing to let Viktor pick him up from work that it would mean Viktor would bring his car to do it, something that Yuuri was now regretting immensely.

“What is _that_ ,” Seung-gil asked, sounding faintly disgusted. “Who would want to drive something like that around the city.”

“I wouldn’t mind it,” Otabek replied, sounding more than a little impressed. “Do you have any idea how much that car is worth?”

Yuuri really didn’t want to know. Nor did he want to stand and listen to his co-workers discuss his boyfriend any more than usual. Instead, he beat a hasty retreat, untying his apron and tossing it at Phichit with a hastily called goodbye before sprinting out into the street.

“Yuuri!” Viktor called as he approached, hurrying around to the other side of the car and opening the door to allow Yuuri to get in. Yuuri immediately dived into the relative safety of the vehicle. Viktor took his time, sliding into the other side of the car before starting the engine and pulling away.

“How was work?” he asked brightly as they drove. From the back seat there was an excited bark and Makkachin’s head appeared between them, sniffing at Yuuri enthusiastically.

“It was fine,” Yuuri replied, laughing as Makkachin’s wet nose prodded him insistently. Reaching out, he gave the dog a few scratches behind his ear before turning his full attention on Viktor again. “Just a few angry customers, nothing too difficult. What about you?”

“Yakov, one of the board members, has been calling to pester me all morning,” Viktor replied, rolling his eyes. “I don’t think he understands the meaning of the word weekend.”

“What does he want?” Yuuri asked curiously. They often spoke about work but Viktor was usually vague on the details, claiming the technicalities were far too boring to make a good topic of conversation.

“He just wants updates on how the expansion is progressing,” Viktor replied with a put-upon sigh. “Apparently I’m ‘ _not allowed to just do whatever you want Vitya. That’s now how this business works’.”_

As he said the last part, Viktor lowered his voice and thickened his accent, imitating what sounded like a gruff old man.

“Yakov’s an old family friend,” Viktor added in his normal voice again, tone softening a little. “He was the one who suggested my father put me in charge of establishing the American branch, to get some practical experience of being in charge before I take over. But after this, I think it might just have been so that he can micromanage over my shoulder the entire time.”

Sometimes when they were together, it was easy for Yuuri to forget exactly who Viktor was. But in times like this, he was starkly reminded. The casual way Viktor mentioned taking over, as if it was no big deal that some day he would be running a prestigious company that brought in more money a day than Yuuri would see in his entire lifetime. And where would Yuuri be when that happened? Still stuck in a dead end job, living paycheck to paycheck as his debts built up around him?

Yuuri shook his head, dismissing the thoughts. It wasn’t something he wanted to think about now. Or preferably ever.

It wasn’t long before they reached their destination, Viktor hopping out of the car first to let Makkachin out of the backseat. Yuuri followed, watching Viktor clip a leash to Makkachin’s collar as the dog bounded excitedly around his feet. When Makkachin was safely secured, Viktor reached out, offering his other hand to Yuuri. Yuuri took it, lacing their fingers together and feeling a little thrill run through him at the feeling. Holding Viktor’s hand was never something he would get tired of.

Together, they walked hand in hand through the park, stopping occasionally to allow Makkachin to nose his way through the bushes or greet the other dogs they passed. The park was bright and full of life and the sun was warm around them, the days not yet beginning to cool even as autumn drew closer.

Eventually, Makkachin began to grow tired, steps gradually slowing as he padded along by their side. Yuuri glanced around for somewhere to rest, eyes falling on a deserted park bench not far from them.

“We should sit down,” he said casually, nodding to the seat. Viktor hummed his agreement and they made their way over together. Yuuri sank onto the bench in relief. The heat of the day combined with the fact that he was still wearing his work clothes meant that the walk had made him uncomfortably warm. Makkachin seemed to agree, flopping down next to Yuuri with a tired huff. Even Viktor was looking hot, a slight flush to his cheeks betraying him.

Yuuri glanced around, eyes landing on a small cart not far from where they were sitting. A sign was swaying gently in the light breeze, advertising the ice cream that was sold there. Several children were bouncing around it, melting cones clutched in their hands. Viktor followed his gaze, eventually spotting the ice cream cart too.

“Do you want one?” Yuuri asked, nodding his head in its general direction. Most of the time he had spent in the city had been during the years he was doing intensive dance training and indulging in ice creams in the park hadn’t been part of his strict diet plan. But now that he wasn’t dancing professionally, Yuuri figured he could indulge every now and then.

“I’ve never tried ice cream from a stall before,” Viktor replied hesitantly and Yuuri’s eyebrows shot up. Considering Viktor’s background, that shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was. He probably only ate the finest brands from the most expensive restaurants, not cheap scoops from park vendors. But that was part of the fun of the whole thing. And not, Yuuri decided, an experience anyone should miss out on.

“I’ll get us some then,” he offered, standing up to leave.

“I can...” Viktor began, hand already reaching for the pocket that Yuuri knew contained his wallet. Yuuri stopped him with a shake of his head.

“No, let me,” he insisted. “You stay here and look after Makkachin.”

Viktor sunk back down reluctantly and Yuuri felt a strange sense of victory. It was satisfying to be able to do something nice for Viktor for a change, rather than the other way around.

Yuuri made his way over to the ice cream cart, grabbing two quickly and hurrying back over to Viktor before they had the chance to begin to melt. Viktor smiled as Yuuri handed his over, his fingers brushing against Yuuri’s and lingering for a second as he accepted it. Then he waited until Yuuri had started eating his before tentatively trying his own. When he looked pleasantly surprised at the taste, Yuuri felt a rush of victory run through him.

“Good?” he asked, catching a stray trail of melting ice cream from his own cone with his finger and licking it off with a swipe of his tongue.

“Very good,” Viktor replied, although he seemed to be concentrating far more on Yuuri than the ice cream in his hand.

Yuuri took another bite of his own and Viktor laughed lightly as he swallowed.

“You’ve got a little...” Viktor motioned to around his mouth and Yuuri swiped a hand across his lips, feeling the smear of ice cream as he tried to wipe it off. When he looked back at Viktor to see if he had been successful, Viktor was gazing at him affectionately, laughter still curling at the corners of his lips.

“Let me,” Viktor offered, reaching out to swipe his thumb across Yuuri’s lower lip.

His touch lingered there, finger still resting lightly on Yuuri’s lips. Yuuri leaned in instinctively and Viktor followed, pressing a light kiss to the place where he had just touched. Yuuri kissed back, tasting the sweetness lingering on Viktor’s lips. When Viktor pulled away, his eyes were sparkling.

“There,” he said softly, thumb tracing Yuuri’s lip a final time before pulling away. “I got it.”

They sat there for a few more minutes, pressed close together as they finished off the ice creams. When they were finally finished they stood up, Viktor picking up Makkachin’s leash again as they headed towards the exit.

“Do you want a ride home?” Viktor offered as they walked out of the park. From his expression, he looked as reluctant for Yuuri to go as Yuuri was to leave.

Yuuri pulled out his phone and glanced at the time, surprised by how late it had gotten.

“Thanks, but there’s no point,” he told Viktor. “My shift starts in an hour. By the time I get home, I’d just have to turn around and come straight back again.”

It wasn’t the first time that Yuuri regretted having such a long commute to work. Usually when he was working shifts at both the restaurant and the café in one day, he didn’t even bother going home. The travel time just wasn’t worth it.

“Why don’t you come back to my place then?” Viktor asked and Yuuri looked at him, surprised. He and Viktor had been dating for a few weeks, but he had never been to Viktor’s apartment before.

“There’s no point in you just hanging around in the city for an hour,” Viktor pointed out, sounding sincere. “And my place is closer to where you work than yours. We can grab a drink there before you have to start your shift.”

“Alright,” Yuuri found himself agreeing before he had even really thought it through.

It was only once he was in the car with Viktor speeding towards Viktor’s apartment that Yuuri realised that maybe going back to Viktor’s place wasn’t the best idea. Not because he didn’t want to be there, or that the implications of going home with Viktor scared him. But because it was highly unlikely that in an hour’s time he would want to leave.

Viktor drove them downtown, through streets that Yuuri only vaguely recognised. As far as he could tell, they were heading towards the Meatpacking District, somewhere Yuuri had only been a handful of times in his life. The area was a strange mix of remnants from its industrial past and the ultra-modern lifestyle that had replaced it, with old factories converted into luxury apartments and designer boutiques. Phichit had often fantasised out loud about someday having an apartment there, when he was a rich and famous photographer who could afford the exuberant rent prices.

Even with his basic knowledge of the area, Yuuri still couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping when they pulled up in front of the building that he assumed housed Viktor’s apartment. It was massive, huge arching windows running down both sides of the building and towering pillars encasing the entrance. The bulk of the building was made entirely of pristine pale stone, although Yuuri could see the glass extensions peeking from the roof that betrayed the renovations that must have occurred to convert it from its original purpose to apartments. It looked like it was once an old bank or city hall, far too grand to ever consider living in.

“You _live_ here?” Yuuri choked out in disbelief, staring open-mouthed at the building before them.

“Only in the penthouse suit,” Viktor replied nonchalantly, nodding to the huge glass extensions at the top of the building that Yuuri had noticed earlier. “I don’t have the whole building.”

“Right,” Yuuri nodded faintly, wondering if that was supposed to make him feel any better.

“My father wanted me to rent an apartment in Parkside when I moved over here,” Viktor added, and Yuuri had to fight to avoid choking in his own tongue again. If there was anywhere that was a more ridiculously over the top place to live in in the whole city, that would be it. “For the prestige, you know? But I liked this area better. Much more modern.”

“Sure.”

Yuuri was pretty such most of his answers were going to be reduced to monosyllables while he tried to process. He had always known that Viktor was rich. He had seem flashes of that wealth before and understood the scale in an objective sort of way. But seeing the reality laid out so plainly before him made it real in a way that it never had been before. It was lightyears away from the rickety apartment where he lived, lightyears away from everything in his world.

He remained silent as Viktor drove his car into the building to his private parking space - another thing Yuuri was sure it would take him a while to get over - and as they took the elevator up to the top floor. When the doors opened, Yuuri had to restrain himself from gasping again.

The apartment was huge, spacious and open with floor to ceiling glass windows that let the sunlight stream in. The rooms were open plan, artistically placed decorative dividers the only barriers between the plush armchairs and couches of the living room, the grand pine table of the dining room and the spotless stainless steel of the kitchen. There was a balcony leading out onto a terrace outside and a towering staircase leading up to the second floor.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Viktor told him, not seeming to notice Yuuri’s speechlessness. “What can I get you to drink? I have coffee and tea, or I could bring you some wine or beer if you’d prefer something harder?”

“Just water is fine,” Yuuri decided after a second of consideration. He had already had plenty of caffeine that day and if he was working a shift that night, alcohol probably wouldn’t be a good choice.

“If you’re sure,” Viktor replied. At Yuuri’s nod, he headed off into the kitchen to collect the drinks.

Not wanting to wait standing up, Yuuri perched delicately on one of the couches, feeling like he might ruin the pristine white fabric just by sitting on it. He could hardly believe that in an apartment this big, Viktor lived alone. There was enough room for several families, the living room alone was almost the size of his and Phichit’s tiny shoebox apartment.

Viktor returned a few seconds later, drinks in hand. Yuuri accepted his gratefully and took a swig, the cool of the liquid grounding him again.

“This is a nice place,” Yuuri offered, gesturing around the room. Viktor looked pleased, glancing around with pride clear on his face.

“Thank you,” he beamed, sitting down next to Yuuri on the couch. It was a big couch but Viktor sat close, close enough that their legs were almost touching and their elbows brushed together as they moved. “My father hates it, says it’s tacky and screams of new money. But we’ve never shared the same tastes and I rarely listen to him anyway.”

Yuuri snorted in disbelief.

“Tacky?” He asked incredulously, glancing around at the luxurious room again. There was absolutely nothing about it that he would call tacky.

“Like I said, we have very different opinions and tastes,”Viktor said with a smile. It was genuine enough, but there was something else to the grin as well, a sharpness that didn’t quite match up. But then Yuuri blinked and it was gone.

“Anyway, enough about my father,” Viktor said lightly. “How long do we have before you have to leave for work.”

Yuuri pulled out his phone again, glancing down at the screen and sighing.

“I’ll have to leave in about fifteen minutes,” he replied reluctantly as he tucked his phone away again.

Subconsciously, he shifted a little closer to Viktor, the long line of their legs pressing together and their sides almost touching. Viktor moved too, leaning back casually and stretching out his arms across the back of the sofa. Yuuri could feel the way Viktor’s arm rested just shy of the nape of his neck and he leaned back too, tucking himself into the space that Viktor had created.

“I wish we had more time today,” Viktor sighed, fingers ghosting across the curve of Yuuri’s shoulder. The touch was light but Yuuri was hyper aware of it all the same.

“So do I,” Yuuri replied. With Viktor pressed so tantalisingly close to him, he had never been more reluctant to leave.

Viktor reached up with his free hand, stroking his fingers softly along Yuuri’s jaw. Yuuri leaned into the touch, heart beating double time as he saw the first sparks of desire flicker in Viktor’s eyes.

“We’ll just have to make the most of the time we have,” Viktor said softly, thumb reaching up to stoke across Yuuri’s cheek.

Yuuri leaned in closer, knowing that was all the indication that Viktor needed. Viktor smiled in response and closed the final few inches between them and pressing his lips lightly to Yuuri’s. It began as sweet and chaste as it had in the park but, with no-one around to see them, Yuuri soon pressed closer, deepening the kiss. Viktor responded in kind, his kiss all consuming until Yuuri found himself lost in the sensation.

Viktor’s hand slid from his jaw to tangle in his hair, pulling lightly at the dark strands. Yuuri felt pleasure spark through him and kissed back harder. His hands slid up to grasp at Viktor’s shoulders, anchoring himself.

They continued to kiss, heat building between them. Every kiss, every touch only made the fire burn hotter and Yuuri pressed himself even closer, until he was practically sitting in Viktor’s lap. Viktor made a throaty noise of pleasure at that, hooking one hand around the small of Yuuri’s back and pulling him in until he was fully seated there, pressed almost chest to chest. Viktor’s hand moved from his hair to slide tantalisingly up his thigh, the thick material of his trousers doing nothing to stop the burning trail of heat the touches left behind.

Yuuri leaned back, dragging Viktor with him until his back hit the couch. Once he was lying down, he settled back into the cushions with Viktor hovering over him, still kissing him fiercely. All thoughts of work and the time and everything else that had previously occupied Yuuri’s mind had melted away, replaced by nothing but Viktor. 

There was a light tug on the hem of Yuuri’s shirt, one of Viktor’s hands sliding under the fabric to clasp around his waist. Viktor’s fingers traced trails across his hip before creeping steadily further up, sliding higher and higher under Yuuri’s shirt until...

The loud blare of an alarm interrupted them and they sprang apart in shock. Viktor glanced down, bewildered, and Yuuri realised through the haze of his own mind that the alarm was coming from his pocket. His phone was vibrating furiously, the familiar and irritating tune playing obnoxiously loudly from the speakers.

It was his work alarm, the one he set to go off before every shift to remind him to get a move on before he was late. Yuuri had never hated it more than in that moment.

“I have to go,” he told Viktor with an extreme sense of reluctance. His lips were still tingling from the kiss and his heart was racing, urging him to ignore everything and just keep going. The rational part of his mind overrode that desire, but only just.

Viktor let out a disappointed groan, pressing his forehead against Yuuri’s. Then he sat back, expression changing to one of reluctant acceptance.

“Of course,” Viktor told him, offering Yuuri a hand and pulling him back into a sitting position again. “Let me get my keys and I’ll drive you there.”

Yuuri almost wanted to protest and insist that he could walk, but he knew that if he tried he would definitely be late. Instead, he allowed Viktor to clamber off him and pull him to his feet. Even when they were both standing, Viktor didn’t let go of his hand. Instead, he twined their fingers together as he lead Yuuri back through the apartment towards the front door. Yuuri went with him, equally as reluctant to let go.

As they made their through the apartment, Yuuri glanced around again, taking in the luxurious rooms for a final time. It was a stark reminder of all the things he had been trying to ignore. A clear sign that no matter how he and Viktor were similar, there were so many other ways that Yuuri would never, could never, be in the same league. Compared to Viktor, he wasn’t even a player.

But all of that still paled in comparison to the happiness that Yuuri felt when Viktor was near. The desperate desire to see him again whenever they were parted. The way their bodies fit so well together as they kissed and the burning desire in Yuuri’s chest for _more_. For everything.

He was in over his head, that much he knew. But when he thought of Viktor’s smile and lost himself in those brilliant blue eyes, it was so easy to ignore everything else and simply let himself drown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who is curious, Viktor’s penthouse is based on a real place which you can find [here](http://lbda.com/meatpacking-penthouse/) . It looks like a pretty awesome place to live! And many thanks to Adele for being the one to show it to me, it was the perfect inspiration. 
> 
> As usual, you can find me on [tumblr](http://kazliin.tumblr.com/) for more fic writing and YOI. Also apologies for any mistakes in this chapter, I haven’t had access to my laptop recently so I had to write and upload this chapter on my phone. AO3 really doesn’t like trying to edit and upload chapters via mobile so I’m sure there are some mistakes I will have missed!
> 
> Finally, I know the end of this chapter was a bit of a tease but I promise the E rating of this fic is going to come into play very soon ;)


	5. Chapter 5

Yuuri was having a bad day.

Actually, Yuuri was having a bad week. Work had been stressful, his hours had been long, and no amount of happiness from the time he had been able to steal to spend with Viktor over the course of the week was enough to negate the stress that he could feel itching under his skin like a physical ache. It had been a bad week overall, and his terrible day was just another thing to add to the list.

The front door slammed as Yuuri swung it shut, much louder than he had intended. He winced as the windows rattled in their frames from the force. From his seat at the kitchen table, Phichit glanced up from his laptop, raising one eyebrow as he glanced from Yuuri to the door and then back to Yuuri again.

“What’s up with you?” Phichit asked, pulling out his earbuds and dropping them onto the table. As he approached, Yuuri could just about hear the tinny sound of music blaring from Phichit’s now discarded headphones. The song sounded like Terra Incognita, if the faint snatches that Yuuri could hear were anything to go by. Yuuri knew that if Phichit was listening to the King and the Skater soundtracks while studying, it either meant he was in a very good mood or a very bad one.

“Bad day,” Yuuri sighed, discarding his shoes and tossing his coat onto the nearest chair.

Phichit made a sympathetic noise.

“Tell me about it,” he groaned, running a hand across his face and yawning wildly. “I’ve been working on this essay for four hours now and do you know how many words I’ve managed? Five hundred. I swear, one more assignment like this and I’m dropping out to become an Instagram model.”

Yuuri managed a tired laugh, pulling out the chair next to Phichit and slumping into it. He had been on his feet for hours, rushing back and forth between tables without a moment’s rest. His feet were aching and swollen in his uncomfortable work shoes and he wanted nothing more than for the day to be over.

“What about you?” Phichit asked. As he spoke he stretched, and Yuuri could hear his spine crack as he finally straightened from his position hunched over his laptop.

“It was just a long day,” Yuuri replied, hoping that the stress and frustration he was feeling didn’t bleed over into his voice too much. As bad as his evening had been, he didn’t want to dump all of his troubles onto Phichit when his friend was already stressed too. “And one of my tables this evening didn’t tip me.”

“Assholes,” Phichit said sympathetically.

That pretty much summarised everything Yuuri had thought about his last table of the night in a single word. It had been a couple, a haughty woman who hadn’t spoken a word to him the whole evening and a greasy haired man who had been throwing his weight around from the minute he’d walked through the door. He had spent the entire night clicking at Yuuri imperiously to get his attention, making unreasonable demands, and complaining that he wanted faster service loudly enough for the entire restaurant to hear. Yuuri had gritted his teeth and born it, knowing that there was nothing he could do without risking his job. But the worst insult had come at the end of the night, when he suffered through it all only to find no tip waiting for him at the end.

“Because of the poor service,” the man had told him snootily as they swept out of the restaurant and it took everything in Yuuri not to scream.

Sighing at the memory, Yuuri leaned back in his chair, only to feel it wobble dangerously beneath him. Hurriedly, he sat back up again, praying the whole thing wasn’t about to collapse beneath his weight. He and Phichit had bought the table and chairs in a thrift store during their first year as roommates and, considering the state they were in, it was a miracle they had lasted as long as they had.

“This place is falling apart around us,” Phichit said jokingly, poking Yuuri’s chair with his toe and watching as it gave another dangerous wobble.

Yuuri had to agree. Through a mixture of thrift shopping, sales and the occasional bout of dumpster diving, he and Phichit had managed to collect the pieces of a functional, if mismatched, apartment. It was home and it had served them both well over the years. But Yuuri couldn’t deny that it occasionally felt like it was in the process of falling apart around their ears.

“You know, if you aren’t going to take advantage of your potential sugar daddy, you should at least get him to introduce me to some of his hot, rich friends,” Phichit joked. “Then maybe we could afford a table that still has all four of its legs.”

Yuuri snorted, rolling his eyes. He knew that Phichit wasn’t serious. At least, he was pretty sure that he wasn’t. But Phichit never missed an opportunity to tease him about Viktor regardless, no matter the context. He had insisted that it was what best friends were for, and that he would be neglecting his duty if he didn’t.

Thinking of Viktor, Yuuri glanced around the apartment, eyes skimming over the worn furniture and scuffed carpets. After seeing where Viktor lived, he couldn’t imagine Viktor ever coming here. He just wouldn’t fit. It wasn’t the sort of place that someone like Viktor could ever exist in comfortably, far too far removed from the world he usually inhabited.

It wasn’t that he was ashamed, Yuuri insisted to himself. He just...didn’t want Viktor to ever see his apartment.

Next to him, Phichit yawned again, rubbing his eyes and glancing out of the window. The sky outside was pitch black, the night well and truly upon them. Yuuri could feel his own tiredness creeping through his body, the prospect of his bed just one room away incredibly tempting.

“I’m giving up,” Phichit announced with another yawn, flicking the lid of his laptop closed. “I have an early class tomorrow and I’m not going be able to get any more of this essay done tonight.”

“Which class?” Yuuri asked.

“History of photography,” Phichit replied, sounding extremely unenthusiastic. “It starts at eight thirty.”

Yuuri winced, remembering all too well the horror of eight thirty classes. Despite the many downsides of not being in college anymore, at least nowadays his shifts only ever started at nine at the earliest. He had always been far more of a night owl than and early bird and he would much rather work until well past midnight than start early.

“You have the day off tomorrow, don’t you?” Phichit asked and Yuuri nodded. Thursdays were his usual day off, unless he picked up an extra shift. Which was something he had found himself doing less and less as the weeks wore on. Thursdays had quickly become date night and Yuuri was loathe to give up one of the few opportunities he had to spend uninterrupted time with Viktor.

“Are you seeing Viktor?” Phichit added, although from the smirk in his voice Yuuri could tell that he already knew the answer.

“Yes,” Yuuri confirmed, feeling a bubble of warmth grow in his chest at the thought. “He’s working in the morning but we’re meeting up in the evening.”

“Lucky,” Phichit said, sounding more than a little envious. “You get a hot date with your boyfriend and I get possibly the most boring professor in the world droning for two hours about the genius of Joseph Niépce and Louis Daguerre.”

“But would you really want to trade my schedule for yours on any other day?” Yuuri pointed out and Phichit shuddered theatrically.

“Definitely not,” he replied, sounding faintly horrified. “No offence Yuuri, but your schedule sucks.”

Yuuri hummed his agreement. He couldn’t deny it even if he wanted to. Next to him, Phichit yawned one last time and then stood up, picking up his laptop.

“Anyway, I should head to bed,” he told Yuuri, rubbing a hand across his eyes. Even in his own exhausted state, Yuuri could see that Phichit looked extremely tired and he didn’t envy his friend’s early start in the morning. “I’ll see you tomorrow Yuuri.”

“See you tomorrow,” Yuuri echoed as Phichit crossed the apartment. Pulling open the door to his room, Phichit gave Yuuri a final tired smile before disappearing inside. Even once the door was shut, Yuuri could still hear the sound of Phichit moving about in his room through the paper-thin walls. The thud of his wardrobe door closing, the creak of his floorboards and the groaning of springs as Phichit flopped down onto his bed.

The sound made Yuuri long for the comfort of his own bed. With nothing left to distract him, he walked over to his room at last and slipped gratefully inside. As soon as the door had swung shut he sat down heavily on his bed, pulling out his phone to check the time.

When he glanced down at the screen, Yuuri was surprised to see that it was already well past midnight. Since he had the day off tomorrow, there was none of his usual pressing need to get to sleep as soon as possible in anticipation of an early shift. But with how exhausted he was, Yuuri could still barely keep his eyes open. Gone were the days when he could stay up the whole night surviving on nothing but coffee, energy drinks and stress. He might only be twenty-three, but Phichit’s teasing that he was turning into an old man already was getting worryingly accurate.

Dismissing the thought, Yuuri glanced at his phone screen again. Underneath the time, a text from Viktor sat waiting, unopened. It had been there ever since Yuuri finished his shift, but he was still yet to reply.

 _‘How was work?’_ the message read, accompanied by a heart. It was a simple message, something that Viktor sent regularly. Unlike in the café, in the restaurant there was no chance from Yuuri to sneak out his phone to text Viktor surreptitiously during his shifts. But they usually spoke after he was done, catching each other up on how their days had gone.

But this time, Yuuri hadn’t been able to bring himself to reply yet. He had been in such a bad mood after his shift and he didn’t want to begin ranting to Viktor about it. The entire week had been nothing but stress and the last thing he wanted was his troubles at work to bleed over into his relationship, the only escape he had from them.

And on top of that, he wasn’t quite sure how to explain to Viktor just why his night had been so bad. Viktor was very understanding when he spoke about the stress of work, the long shifts and the lack of free time. But he didn’t think that Viktor would really understand why missing out on a tip was so important to him. Or worse, he would just offer to replace the small amount of money for Yuuri himself, completely missing the point.

It wasn’t a topic he had wanted to get into so instead, Yuuri had avoided it completely.

After a few more minutes of staring at the message, Yuuri typed out a quick _‘It was fine’_ and clicked the phone off again. The relationship that he and Viktor had begun to build was good, one of the few good things in Yuuri’s life at the moment. There was no point in bringing troubles from his work life into it when he didn’t have to.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

When Yuuri awoke the next morning, it was to the glorious feeling that came from waking up naturally for change. The room was quiet. Peaceful. Not a blaring alarm to be heard.

Yuuri stretched, rolling over in the bed and feeling a rare sense of contentment. It wasn’t usual that he got the chance to sleep in and so for a few minutes, he simply let himself enjoy the moment. Feeling himself gradually change from pleasantly sleepy to mostly awake to finally blinking his eyes open to the bright morning light.

The sunlight was streaming through a crack in his curtains and Yuuri could feel the stripe of warmth across his face where it fell. Sleepily, he rolled out of bed and padded over to the window. When he pulled open the curtains, light flooded the room, the sun already high in the sky. He must have slept late, Yuuri guessed. Phichit would already be long gone for his morning classes and, until he met up with Viktor that evening, Yuuri had the day to himself.

Without bothering to get dressed, he wandered through to the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. It was depressingly empty. Neither he nor Phichit had had time recently for grocery shopping, too caught up in work and school. For a few minutes Yuuri stood there, staring into the depths of the fridge and trying to figure out what sort of breakfast he could put together using the almost empty carton of milk, single stick of butter and half an onion that were the only options left on the almost empty shelves.

After rummaging around in the cupboards in desperation, Yuuri finally found a few pieces of bread that looked mainly edible and settled on making himself toast. Mentally, he listed down grocery shopping as one of the many things he would have to get done that day, mourning the fact that his days off were never quite as free and relaxing as he wished they could be.

At least he would get to see Viktor that evening.

Once he had scraped together some breakfast, Yuuri sat down to eat, picking up his phone at the same time. Quickly, he typed out a message to Viktor with one hand, digging into his slice of toast with the other.

 _‘What time should I meet you this evening?’_ he typed, hitting send as soon as the message was complete. They hadn’t made any specific plans, which was unusual for them. Viktor had only told Yuuri that he would see him in the evening and left the rest a mystery. Which had left Yuuri both excited and apprehensive in equal measure, not sure quiet what to expect.

Less than a minute later, his phone lit up with the reply.

 _‘I’ll pick you up at 7,’_ the message read. _‘I have a surprise for you.’_

 _‘A surprise?’_ Yuuri typed back, apprehension spiking a little. A surprise could either be a very good thing or a very bad one and he had no idea what Viktor might possibly have in mind. _‘What is it?’_

 _‘I can’t tell you,_ ’ came the reply and Yuuri could almost hear Viktor speaking the words, the low teasing tone of his voice echoing in Yuuri’s mind. _‘Otherwise it wouldn’t be a surprise.’_

 _‘Can I get a clue?’_ he asked, hoping that Viktor would give him at least some kind of hint. Much as he enjoyed dates with Viktor, Yuuri didn’t want to get caught off guard with something he was incredibly underprepared for.

 _‘No,’_ Viktor’s next message read, accompanied by a wink. _‘But you’ll love it, I promise.’_

Yuuri hoped that he was right.

 _‘Can you at least warn me where we’re going so I know what to wear?’_ he asked, a little desperately. A surprise might be fun, but only if he didn’t show up wearing something completely inappropriate for the evening. Yuuri was pretty sure that no matter how thoughtful and enjoyable whatever Viktor had planned for them was, if he showed up to a restaurant in jeans and a t-shirt or the dog park in a suit, he would have to leave immediately out of sheer embarrassment.

 _‘You’d look beautiful whatever you wear,’_ came the reply and Yuuri had to force himself not to blush. Viktor had a habit of surprising him with complements when he least excepted it and it never failed to send his heart fluttering.

 _‘But for this evening, wear a suit,’_ Viktor added a few seconds later. _“I’m taking you somewhere nice.”_

Yuuri had a feeling somewhere nice by his standards and nice by Viktor’s were two very different things. With a slight twinge of apprehension, he wondered just what Viktor was planning.

It was a thought that refused to leave him for the entire rest of the day. Yuuri pondered the question as he wandered through the local supermarket, grabbing bargains from the reduced section and picking out the best offers. He kept wondering as he browsed for jobs once he was home, the thought bouncing around his mind even as he scoured the internet for something more relevant to his qualifications. He was still thinking about it when Phichit finally arrived home, entering the apartment in a flurry of noise and movement.

“Hey Yuuri,’ Phichit called out as he swung the door shut behind him. His cheeks were flushed pink from the wind outside and his hair was artfully tousled. Yuuri couldn’t help but be slightly jealous. After he had gone out grocery shopping, the wind had ensured that he returned looking like someone had dragged him backwards through a hedge. Twice.

Phichit pulled off his shoes and dumped them on the shoe rack before tossing his coat over the arm of one of the chairs. Once he was suitable undressed, he came to join Yuuri where he was sitting sprawled out on the couch.

“How was your day?” Yuuri asked absentmindedly as Phichit collapsed next to him, letting out a loud groan as he sunk into the cushions.

“Awful,” Phichit replied, looking forlorn. “We got given another assignment, as if I didn’t have enough to do already.”

Yuuri made what he hoped was a sympathetic noise, turning his full attention to his friend.

“What about you?” Phichit asked, glancing at the clock on their wall. “What time are you meeting Viktor.”

“I’m leaving in about...” Yuuri glanced up at the clock too. “Half an hour.”

“And you’re not ready yet?”

Phichit raised an eyebrow, shooting Yuuri a look that was heavily judgemental. Yuuri just shrugged. He tended to leave getting ready as late as possible. As opposed to Phichit, who hogged the bathroom for at least an hour before any date.

“You should probably get moving,” Phichit advised him, eyes flicking over Yuuri before glancing back to the clock again. “You don’t want to still be wearing sweatpants when Viktor gets here.”

Yuuri allowed Phichit to shove him off the couch and decided it was probably best to follow his friend’s advice. He showered quickly and then stood in front of his wardrobe, staring at its contents at a loss.

Viktor had told him to wear a suit, but his options were pretty limited. As in, he only had one option. Reaching into his wardrobe, Yuuri pulled out the only suit he owned, eyeing it critically. It was the same suit he had worn on his first official date with Viktor, right down to the same blue tie that Phichit had called ugly all those weeks ago.

Without any better options, Yuuri pulled it on. It was black so hopefully Viktor wouldn’t notice the repetition, although Yuuri wasn’t counting on it. Once he was fully dressed, he headed back to the bathroom to try and figure out what to do with his hair. After several minutes of debating, he finally borrowed Phichit’s hair gel to slick it back into his preferred style. When he finally emerged, his gut was coiling with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

“Haven’t you already worn that suit on a date with Viktor before?” were the first words out of Phichit’s mouth when Yuuri walked back into the living area.

Yuuri felt another rush of self-consciousness surge through him.

“Yes,” he replied, fingers toying with with the hem of the jacket as he glanced down nervously. “Do you think that Viktor will care?”

“Probably not,” Phichit said lightly, waving the concern away. “If Viktor cared about your clothes, he’d have dumped you ages ago. You have terrible fashion sense, Yuuri.”

“Hey!” Yuuri protested indignantly. Part of him wanted to be offended – his sense of fashion wasn’t _that_ bad after all - but as soon as Phichit smiled, Yuuri forgave him instantly. It was a talent of Phichit’s. Yuuri was convinced that Phichit probably had enough charm to get away with murder.

“And anyway, if he does then you should dump him,” Phichit continued, tone a little more serious now. “Life is too short to spend it with snobs.”

Yuuri relaxed a little, feeling some of the tension begin to drain out of his shoulders.

“Although,” Phichit added with a smile. “Next time, you can borrow some clothes from me. They might be a bit small, but I’m sure we can make something work.”

“Thanks Phichit,” Yuuri said, feeling a rush of affection for his friend. What he had done to deserve Phichit he would never know.

There was a chime from Yuuri’s pocket and both of them looked down. Yuuri pulled out his phone, scanning the screen quickly.

“Viktor’s here,” he told Phichit, pocketing the phone again.

“Have fun,” Phichit called as Yuuri walked over to the front door. Yuuri turned and looked back one last time before leaving the apartment, hurrying down the stairs and out onto the street where Viktor was waiting.

The sight when he exited the building pulled Yuuri up short however. Instead of the sleek sports car that Yuuri had become so unfortunately familiar with, an unfamiliar hulking black car was waiting for him instead. For a second, Yuuri wondered if it might be a mistake. But then the back window rolled down and Viktor’s smiling face appeared.

“Yuuri!” Viktor called, waving him over.

Yuuri hurried to the car, climbing in quickly. As soon as he was inside, the first thing he noticed was a man he’d never met before sitting in the driver’s seat. The man was as pale as Viktor, with black hair that was gelled to a point above his forehead. He was dressed in a plain dark suit, a stark contrast to the luxurious fabrics that Viktor was wearing.

“This is Georgi,” Viktor introduced as Yuuri slid into the seat next to him. Georgi turned, giving Yuuri a curt nod. “He’s my driver.”

“You have a driver?” Yuuri asked in surprise. For as long as he had known Viktor, he had only ever seen him driving himself. He didn’t seem like the type to want a personal driver.

“Georgi works for the company,” Viktor explained with a shrug as the car purred to life. “I usually prefer to drive myself, but I thought it would be better if he drove us tonight.”

“Are you still not going to tell me what we’re doing this evening?” Yuuri asked and Viktor shook his head.

“Not yet,” he teased, and Yuuri could hear the smile in his voice. “I don’t want to ruin the surprise.”

“How can you be so sure you’ll surprise me?” Yuuri shot back. He kept his voice light and teasing, matching Viktor’s tone. “Maybe I’ve already guessed.”

“I hope not,” Viktor laughed. “Surprises are what make the world exciting. I would hate to have it ruined before we even get there.”

“You’re in luck then,” Yuuri admitted. “Because I have absolutely no idea where we’re going.” 

“Good,” Viktor replied, looking pleased. “I wanted to make this special.”

“Is there something special we’re celebrating today?” Yuuri asked, suddenly nervous. Had he forgotten some important event in the stress of work? How long had he and Viktor been dating? Did they have some kind of anniversary coming up? Oh god, it wasn’t Viktor’s birthday was it?

“There isn’t,” Viktor told him, reaching out across the car seats so that his fingers rested lightly over Yuuri’s. “But do I need an excuse to spoil my boyfriend?”

He took Yuuri’s hand, lacing their fingers together, his thumb rubbing lightly across Yuuri’s knuckles.

“I guess not.”

Yuuri let himself be soothed by the rhythmic motion of Viktor’s fingers against his skin and tried not to dwell on it too hard. Viktor was clearly excited about what he had planned. Surely Yuuri could put aside his worries for one evening and just enjoy himself?

As they drove, Yuuri glanced out of the window, trying to guess where they were going. They seemed to be heading downtown, past some very familiar streets. They headed towards Upper West Side and, for a moment, Yuuri was almost irrationally convinced that Viktor was taking him to his old college campus for some reason. It was only when they approached Lincoln Centre Plaza that Yuuri realised where they must be going.

“Are we...?” he began to ask, turning to Viktor with sudden excitement rising within him.

Beside him, Viktor smiled, pulling out two tickets from his jacket pocket and handing them to Yuuri.

“I have contacts at the New York City Ballet,” Viktor told him as Yuuri felt his heart leap. “You’ve seemed so stressed recently and I wanted to treat you for the evening. And since you always talk about dancing I thought...”

Yuuri stared down at the tickets in his hand, running a finger reverently over the paper. They were for a performance of the New York City Ballet’s production of The Sleeping Beauty, something that Yuuri had longingly stared at the posters for while knowing that he would never actually see it. He had always loved going to the ballet. Back when they had both been students, he and Phichit had used to trawl the internet for cheap tickets and leapt at any opportunity to go. Phichit was always more of a theatre fan, but he had traded in Broadway for ballet for Yuuri when the occasion arose. But Yuuri hadn’t been able to justify the extra expense for a long time now and it felt like lifetimes since he had last seen a show.

“It’s perfect,” Yuuri breathed, still gazing at the tickets. “But Viktor, it’s so much…”

“Nothing is too much for you,” Viktor replied, voice full of affection.

Georgi dropped them off and once they were out of the car, Viktor offered out his arm. Yuuri took it, allowing Viktor to guide him to the theatre.

With Viktor beside him, they breezed past the queues and straight into the theatre itself. When he had previously gone with Phichit, they usually ended up in the nosebleed seats, so high up they could barely see the stage. But with Viktor, Yuuri should have known to expect nothing but the best seats in the house. When they sat down, the view of the stage was perfect and Yuuri felt another wave of excitement wash through him. Usually, he would balk at the amount of money the seats must have cost. But ballet was different. And Yuuri couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty when Viktor had so clearly arranged the whole evening just to make him happy.

“How did you manage to get us such good seats?” Yuuri asked, turning to where Viktor was sitting next to him. Their arms were resting on the armrests next to each other and Viktor was yet to let go of his hand, fingers twined with Yuuri’s as they waited for the show to begin.

“Like I said, I have contacts at the New York City Ballet,” Viktor said casually, as if what he was saying wasn’t impressive at all. “Lilia, an ex-wife of an old family friend, used to be a renown prima ballerina and she still holds a lot of sway in the dance world. She insisted I be well versed in the fine arts and I met a lot of my connections through her. I only had to pull a few strings to get us the tickets last minute.”

“You must have seen hundreds of ballets then,” Yuuri mused. If he had those kind of connections, he would be at the theatre every opportunity he got. He wasn’t sure how Viktor could ever get any work done when he could be absorbed in the magic of dance every evening instead.

“Not that many actually,” Viktor admitted, sounding a little sheepish. “Work always seemed to get in the way. And anyway, Lilia always told me I never appreciated it fully the way that I should.”

His eyes were fixed on Yuuri, drinking in every inch of the excitement Yuuri knew was written across his face.

“I think that may change tonight though,” Viktor added, gaze never once leaving Yuuri.

Viktor’s eyes were still fixed on him when the lights began to dim and a hush fell over the packed theatre. In the silence, Yuuri could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his chest. The thrill of being at the ballet again filled him and his heart soared as the first notes from the orchestra rang out. He might not be on the stage, but at least he could still immerse himself in the beauty of the performance.

The music built as the curtain rose, exposing the dancers posing with perfect stillness. Yuuri remembered how it had once felt. The adrenaline coursing through him as he waited, every muscle poised and perfect. Each beat of the music matching the beating of his heart as he waited for his cue. The elation when he finally moved, knowing that every eye was fixed on him as he lost himself to the dance.

He watched transfixed as the dancers dressed as courtiers appeared on the stage, preparing for the christening of the young Princess Aurora. He gasped with the rest of the audience as the evil Carabosse arrived, completely enthralled within the story. Every dancer was flawless, their every move telling the story better than words ever could.

It was only once the prologue had ended that he was able to tear his eyes from the stage, glancing over at Viktor again. When he turned, he was expecting the other man to be as caught up in the beautiful performance as he was. But instead of watching the stage, Viktor’s eyes were still fixed on Yuuri’s face. Expression bright with happiness as he watched Yuuri’s rapture at the show.

“Aren’t you going to watch the dancers?” Yuuri asked quietly, confused. Surely the impeccable performance on the stage before them was a far more interesting sight than his face.

“I’m watching the most important one in the room,” Viktor said softly.

Yuuri blushed, although he was sure no-one could see it in the darkness. His hand was still in Viktor’s and suddenly, the point of contact felt far more significant than it had before. The place where their hands met tingling with electricity. Yuuri almost wanted to move closer but the armrests lay between them, keeping them apart.

Even when Yuuri turned back to the ballet again, he could still feel Viktor’s eyes on him. Throughout the whole first act, he appeared to watch the show through the expressions on Yuuri’s face. When Yuuri smiled, he could feel Viktor’s pulse jump beneath the skin of his wrist where their hands were resting together. When Yuuri gasped in shock or horror or excitement, Viktor’s hand would tighten in his.

When the lights finally returned as the curtains fell on the first act, Yuuri was dizzy with elation. He had forgotten just how much he missed watching a performance until he was there again. Feeling the joy of being sucked into the dances, so close he could almost feel it. Could picture himself on the stage, matching every movement of the dancers in his mind. Every spin, every leap, every frantic beat of the heart.

“How are you enjoying the performance?” Viktor asked, finally dragging Yuuri’s eyes away from the closed curtain.

“It’s beautiful,” Yuuri breathed, heart still racing as if it had been him dancing up there on the stage. “The dancers are amazing and the detail on the costumes is exquisite. And I’ve always loved the music.”

“Me too,” Viktor agreed, voice filled with nostalgia. “Lilia used to love to choreograph to Tchaikovsky’s work when I was young. I even skated to it once.”

“Skated?” Yuuri asked, confused. Viktor just shook his head, dismissing the words.

“It was a long time ago,” he replied, although there was a tightness to his jaw that didn’t match the casualness of his voice. “Just a childhood hobby.”

Yuuri had the feeling that there was more to it than that, but he decided not to press.

“I once danced to his work,” he offered and Viktor perked up, looking intrigued.

“Which piece?” Viktor asked and Yuuri tilted his head towards the stage.

“In my first year of college, the school decided to choreograph our own version of The Sleeping Beauty,” he explained. It was one of the reasons he had been so excited when Viktor had shown him the tickets. The ballet had always held a special place in his heart. “I wasn’t performing as anyone special, just a courtier. But it was my first big performance and I’ve never forgotten it.”

It had been a magical experience, so much more thrilling than any of his childhood performances. And as he had stood on the side-lines and watched the principal dancers glide their way across the stage, he had sworn to himself that one day he would get there too. To centre stage, as Prince Désiré, or maybe even Aurora if the company allowed it. But someday, he would get there.

“I’m sure you were the best courtier of them all,” Viktor smiled, leaning closer to Yuuri as he spoke.

“Hardly,” Yuuri laughed, shaking his head. “I kept messing up my steps because I was so nervous. And there was an issue with one of the lights. It fell onto stage just as I was dancing and it almost hit me. They had to halt the whole day of rehearsals to figure out what went wrong and get me checked over to make sure I wasn’t hurt. After that, I think all the other dancers thought I might be cursed and kept avoiding me and watching out for falling lights.”

He laughed again but when he glanced at Viktor, the other man was looking horrified.

“I wasn’t hurt though,” Yuuri rushed to clarify, seeing Viktor hadn’t been as amused by the story as most people were. “And anyway, it makes a good story. Phichit likes to joke that it would have been luckier if the light had hit me. Then I could sue for personal injury and pay off all my loans without any problems.”

Viktor somehow looked even more horrified.

“Except the problem of being hit by a falling light,” he pointed out, sounding as though he was becoming concerned for Yuuri’s sanity.

“Beats working for a tipped wage,” Yuuri joked, then fell silent at the look on Viktor’s face. It was something that he and Phichit laughed about regularly, but Viktor didn’t look like he saw the funny side of the joke. Instead, he was looking more concerned by the second.

“Yuuri,” he began, voice gentle. “If you’re struggling, you know I can help you, don’t you? I want to help. I could…”

Yuuri held up a hand, cutting Viktor off before he could finish.

“Viktor, no,” he said gently. “You can’t help me like that.”

For a second, he was tempted. He was so very tempted.

Because it would so _easy_. So easy to hear whatever Viktor was offering and accept, with no thought to the consequences. So easy to let himself be taken care of after so long of holding himself up on his own. So easy to allow himself to believe that there was an easy solution to all of his problems, when that was so far from the truth.

But he couldn’t.

“But I could,” Viktor told him, sounding insistent. “You know that money isn’t an issue for me. It would be my pleasure Yuuri. I don’t want you struggling when I can help.”

“And I don’t want to be a charity case,” Yuuri shot back. What Viktor was offering was huge and he didn’t think that even Viktor himself really understood the magnitude. Not to Yuuri at least. It might be a drop in the ocean of Viktor’s own wealth but for Yuuri, it would be life changing. And it would also throw him into a lifelong debt, one that was as emotional as it was financial, and that debt would be one that he could never pay back.

“It wouldn’t be charity,” Viktor insisted and Yuuri could tell that he didn’t understand. “It would be a gift.”

“Thank you Viktor, it’s very generous but I can’t,” Yuuri said, equally as insistent. “Some gifts are just too big.”

Viktor might not understand the reasons, but Yuuri knew that he could never accept the offer that Viktor was making. It would unbalance their relationship even more drastically than it already was, tip the scales in a way that he could never recover from. He knew that Viktor wasn’t doing it on purpose, that his words were rooted in a genuine desire to help. But that kind of help never came without a price, even an unintentional one. If he ever accepted, he would always feel the need to make it up to Viktor, to pay him back somehow. If not with money then with love, or companionship. How could he argue or disagree with Viktor like a normal couple when he would owe Viktor so much. If their relationship went wrong, how could he ever feel able to break up with Viktor if Viktor had invested thousands or even hundreds of thousands of dollars into Yuuri for the sake of their relationship.

It would change everything, and not in a good way.

Viktor was still frowning and so Yuuri squeezed his hand reassuringly, hoping that he could make Viktor understand.

“It wouldn’t make me happy if you did that for me,” he told Viktor, as soothingly as he could. “I can get by on my own. I promise.”

“If you’re sure,” Viktor replied, still sounding unhappy. Yuuri nodded.

“I am,” he confirmed, which seemed to reassure Viktor a little.

“If you ever change your mind…” Viktor began and Yuuri opened his mouth to stop him. Viktor held up a hand, a smile beginning to form on his lips at Yuuri’s stubbornness. Yuuri halted, allowing Viktor to continue.

“If you ever change your mind, the offer is always there,” Viktor finished, sounding absolutely sincere. “No strings attached. Whenever you want it.”

Yuuri nodded, but he knew that his mind would never change. Not on this.

“If you won’t take anything else, will you let me buy you a new suit at least?” Viktor added, his tone lighter now, the seriousness lifting from their conversation. His hand slid up Yuuri’s arm, stroking along the fabric of his jacket. “You look stunning whatever you wear, but I know a designer here in New York that could make you something beautiful enough to be worthy of you.”

Yuuri had hoped that Viktor hadn’t noticed the recycling of his old suit, but at least he couldn’t hear any judgement in Viktor’s tone. He wasn’t sure if he should be flattered by the compliment or offended on his suit’s behalf.

“I don’t need a new suit,” he protested, knowing full well that he did.

Viktor pouted, although Yuuri could see in his eyes that it was more for show than anything.

“ _Yuuri,_ ” Viktor said, drawing out the vowels in his name until it sounded almost like a purr. “If you won’t let me help you, at least let me spoil you.”

“You’ve already spoiled me enough tonight already,” Yuuri pointed out, looking pointedly around the theatre. Viktor didn’t look convinced.

“Hardly,” he protested.

Viktor didn’t have time to protest further however because it was at that moment that the lights began to dim and a hush fell over the theatre again. They both fell quiet and Yuuri returned his gaze to the stage. There was a moment of silence, heavy with anticipation, and then the curtain lifted and the second half began.

As the music soared, the performance enraptured him again. But all the while, Yuuri was hyper aware of Viktor’s presence by his side, their hands still resting together. Viktor’s skin was warm in the heated theatre and he leaned closer to Yuuri as the show went on, only separated by the armrest between their two seats.

As the act progressed and the familiar music filled Yuuri’s ears and heart, he found himself imagining again what it would be like if he was the one dancing in the centre of the stage. The softness of the costume fabric against his skin, the heat of the lights beating down onto the performers. The thrill of performing, losing himself in the feeling. The light caress of another’s touch as he watched the lovers begin their Pas de Deux, dancing in perfect unison. Of Viktor’s touch, because somehow his mind’s eye had chosen to gift his imaginary dance partner with Viktor’s face, smiling down at Yuuri as they moved together.

Yuuri knew that the performance lasted for hours but it still only felt like minutes before the last note rang out as the dancers held their final positions. So lost in the show that he had barely been aware of time passing.

The audience burst into applause as the music died and Yuuri applauded with them. He continued to clap all throughout the final bows, watching as the dancers beamed as they accepted the praise. It was only as the curtain dropped that he stopped, the lights coming back on a dragging him back to reality again.

Around him, the audience began to move, collecting their things and starting to leave their seats. Yuuri stood up too and Viktor rose next to him, offering Yuuri out his arm. Together they made their way back into the foyer, discussing the final acts of the show all the while. Yuuri was pleasantly surprised by Viktor’s ballet knowledge. For someone who claimed not to be an expert, he was certainly able to hold his own in a conversation.

It was only when they were almost at the entrance that their conversation was interrupted.

“Mr Nikiforov,” called a voice from Yuuri’s left and he turned to see a man walking towards them. The man was dressed in a suit similar to Viktor’s, although instead of flattering him the way Viktor’s did, it clung unpleasantly in all the wrong places. His hair was shiny and plastered to his head and there was a moustache sprouting from his upper lip that might once have been fashionable several decades ago. His pale eyes were fixed on Viktor and his lips were upturned self-important smile as he approached.

“Mr Wright,” Viktor responded coolly, inclining his head. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I was forced to come by my wife I’m afraid,” the man replied with a dismissive chuckle that had Yuuri’s distaste immediately skyrocketing. “And I see you’re here with your…”

He trailed off, eyes darting to where Yuuri was standing by Viktor’s side. There was an uncomfortable pause as his gaze flickered over Yuuri suit, lingering on the cheap fabric and the place where the sleeves fell slightly short of his wrists. Mr Wright’s eyebrows raised slightly and there was a hint of distain in the curl of his lips as he stared at the way the cashmere of Viktor’s suit clashed horribly with Yuuri’s cheap cotton and polyester blend. Yuuri fidgeted uncomfortably under the scrutiny, feeling suddenly self-conscious. The pause dragged out, the implication unpleasant.

“Boyfriend,” Viktor cut in sharply. Where their arms were linked, Yuuri could feel the muscles beneath the fabric of Viktor’s shirt tense, like bowstrings pulled too tight. If he had thought Viktor’s voice was cool before, now it was positively arctic.

“I see,” Mr Wright said, eyes widening slightly in surprise. “I hadn’t heard that you were a taken man.”

“I try to keep my private life out of the public eye,” Viktor replied, voice still icy. “I don’t mix business and pleasure.”

“Of course,” Mr Wright hurried to correct himself, plastering on what even Yuuri could see was an insincere smile. “Although I was hoping to talk to you about…”

“Like I said, I don’t mix business and pleasure,” Viktor cut him off sharply. “Since I’m not here on business, you’ll have to excuse me. We have places to be.”

Yuuri had never heard him sound like that before. Aloof, almost bored. Like the man in front of his wasn’t worth his time and Viktor didn’t deign to give it to him.

Before Mr Wright had the chance to reply, Viktor had swept past, taking Yuuri with him.

“Who was that?” Yuuri whispered as soon as he was sure they were out of earshot.

“A business associate,” Viktor replied, distaste clear in his every word. “Unfortunately, one that I can’t get rid of.”

Yuuri could hear the unspoken _‘yet’_ hanging in the air between them.

“You don’t like him?” Yuuri asked, although the answer to that question was already obvious.

“He’s not a likeable person,” Viktor said, expression sour. “And even if he was, I wouldn’t never like anyone who was rude to you. He won’t find any favour with me.”

Yuuri felt a sudden surge of affection rise within him. Seeing Viktor so visibly annoyed on his behalf was strangely comforting. Like an invisible shield between Yuuri and any distain that was hurled his way. He stood out next to Viktor in his cheap suit and scuffed shoes and he knew it. But with Viktor on his side, the sting of the unspoken insult didn’t affect him as much as it otherwise might have.

Yuuri glanced around, back to where they had been standing a few seconds previously. Mr Wright was still standing there, looking distinctly put out at Viktor’s sudden departure. Yuuri didn’t feel guilty in the slightest. Instead, he was hit with the sudden urge to smile. Regardless of what anyone else thought, Viktor had still chosen him. He was the one who had stolen Viktor from the world.

The thoughts were accompanied by a strange surge of possessiveness. Stopping in his tracks, he turned to face Viktor, who was looking faintly surprised at coming to such an abrupt halt. They were still in the middle of the crowded foyer but Yuuri didn’t care. Reaching out, he wrapped his hand around the black tie hanging around Viktor’s neck and tugged. Pulling Viktor to him and crushing their mouths together in a bruising kiss. He wanted Mr Wright to watch, to know that his opinion didn’t matter when Yuuri had something much, much better to concern himself with.

It was more for show than anything else but then Viktor made a pleased sound into his mouth and deepened the kiss and Yuuri forgot his original intentions entirely. Instead, he allowed himself to melt into the kiss, uncaring of the people around them.

When they broke apart, Viktor was gazing at him with a mixture of pleasure and surprise.

“What was that for?” he asked, sounding slightly out of breath.

“No reason,” Yuuri shrugged, satisfaction curling pleasantly in his gut.

Viktor leaned in again, stealing another kiss. Yuuri savoured the feeling, but this time he was distinctly more aware of the looks being shot their way, if only because they were blocking the path of other people trying to exit the theatre.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this here,” he said grudgingly, stepping back to put some distance between them. Viktor snaked an arm around his waist, seemingly reluctant to let him go.

“You’re right,” Viktor agreed. “We should go to the car where there’s no-one to stop us.”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow as they began to walk again, although he wasn’t complaining.

“You have a driver,” he pointed out. Viktor just waved the concern away.

“I pay him enough not to care,” he said breezily and Yuuri didn’t have a response for that.

They made their way quickly back to where the car was waiting for them, the sensation of the kiss still tingling on Yuuri’s lips. Once they were seated inside the car, Viktor leaned over, cupping one hand around the back of Yuuri’s neck and drawing him in. Their lips met as the engine rumbled to life beneath them, the kiss deepening as the car began to move.

Viktor kissed him hungrily, fingers brushing the sensitive spots on Yuuri’s neck as he pulled them closer. Viktor’s free hand settled on Yuuri’s thigh, sliding higher as the kiss continued. Yuuri felt desire begin to spark in his chest, fuelled by the heat of Viktor’s touch. But even so, he couldn’t help but glance nervously at the front seat as they kissed, all too aware of the driver sitting a few feet away. In the foyer, he had been taken over by a confidence he didn’t usually possess, egged on by the desire to prove a point. But here, that feeling had burned itself out, leaving him feeling self-conscious again.  Much as he wanted to climb into Viktor’s lap and simply allow himself to be carried away, Yuuri was pretty sure he’d never be able to overcome the embarrassment.

Viktor must have seen the way his eyes flicked away or felt his hesitance because he pressed one last lingering kiss to Yuuri’s lips before pulling away again. The hand that was cupping Yuuri’s neck remained, thumb stroking softly over the line of his jaw. For a few seconds Viktor simply looked at him, eyes full of affection mingling with desire.

“Where would you like to go sir?” the driver asked from the front seat, glancing at Viktor in the rear-view mirror. Viktor looked away from Yuuri towards the front of the car, looking almost regretful.

“Take Yuuri home first,” he instructed, although Yuuri could hear the hint of reluctance in his voice. It was echoed in his own heart, not wanting the evening to end.

And, he realised, it didn’t have to.

“Viktor,” he said, voice low. He reached out, tilting Viktor’s face towards him again and holding him there. “I don’t have to go home tonight. If you want me to stay?”

It was a bold move and not one he would usually be comfortable with. But it was Viktor and Yuuri wanted him more than he had ever wanted anyone before. And he knew that Viktor wanted him too. It was a want that had been building for weeks now and their kiss had only fuelled the flames of that desire. Yuuri couldn’t imagine ending the evening where they were, not when he knew how reluctant both of them were to leave.

“Right now, there’s nothing I want more in the world,” Viktor breathed. His hand tightened reflexively on the back of Yuuri’s neck and for a second, Yuuri thought that Viktor was about to kiss him again. Then Viktor’s eyes darted back to the driver and he restrained himself, something Yuuri was sure was purely for his own sake. Although with Viktor looking at him the way he was, eyes dark with desire, Yuuri was almost willing to ignore the company they had completely and let himself be lost in the dizzying sensation of Viktor’s kiss again.

Their eyes never left each other during the short journey to Viktor’s apartment. The rest of the drive was filled with lingering touches, not enough to be scandalous but enough to have Yuuri’s breath hitching in his chest. He could almost feel the tension crackling in the air between them, sparks of want and need and anticipation dancing across his skin. It continued to build as they left the car and made their way up to Viktor’s apartment. By the time the front door finally swung shut, leaving them alone at last, it was all that Yuuri could focus on.

Viktor seemed to be thinking the same because as soon as the click of the door closing rang out through the apartment he turned to Yuuri. The expression on his face was pure desire but there was a question in his eyes as he regarded Yuuri, waiting. Yuuri answered it wordlessly, stepping closer to Viktor and grabbing the lapels of his jacket, pulling him in.

His fingers tightened in the material as their lips met, dragging Viktor closer. Viktor made a hungry noise into his mouth, arms immediately winding around Yuuri’s waist and pressing their bodies together. Yuuri parted his lips, allowing Viktor to deepen the kiss. Somewhere inside him a dam had broken, his want and desperation spilling out in the flood that threatened to sweep away his conscious mind and leave nothing but raw need in its wake.

Viktor hands moved from circling his waist to sliding beneath his suit jacket, clasping at Yuuri’s waist. He stepped forward and Yuuri moved with him until he felt his back hit the door behind him. Pinned there in the safety of Viktor’s arms, he allowed Viktor to press him back into the wood, kisses growing hungrier by the second.

While Viktor was occupied with his mouth, Yuuri let his own hands slide under Viktor’s jacket, pushing the fabric off his shoulders. As soon as Viktor realised what Yuuri was trying to do he hurried to help, shrugging out of the jacket and allowing it to fall carelessly to the floor behind him. Yuuri’s jacket was the next casualty, tossed to one side as they continued to kiss.

When Viktor finally pulled away he was panting, pupils blown wide with desire. His hair was dishevelled where Yuuri had raked his fingers through it and his lips were red from kissing. The tie around his neck was crooked and his shirt was hanging half untucked where Yuuri had tugged it hastily out. He had never looked more beautiful.

“Bedroom?” he asked, voice deeper than Yuuri had ever heard it before. Yuuri nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

They stumbled up the stairs together, occasionally stopping to steal more kisses and shed more clothes. Their shoes were lost somewhere in the journey and Viktor’s tie ended up draped over one of the steps, kicked swiftly out of the way. Yuuri’s was tossed somewhere over his shoulder, lost to the chaos.

By the time they finally reached the bedroom, half the buttons on Viktor’s shirt were undone, Yuuri belt was hanging open and they were both breathless from kissing. Yuuri’s mind was spinning, everything too much and not enough all at once. His want for Viktor had been growing since they day they had met and now they were here and he could scarcely bring himself to believe it.

His preoccupation with kissing was so great that he barely registered the room that Viktor led him into. All that he noticed was the vague impression of there being a bed before Viktor had pulled him onto it. Their kisses grew more frantic and Viktor’s hands dug bruises into his skin as he held Yuuri tightly and kissed him hard.

“Take this off,” Viktor murmured against Yuuri’s lips, tugging at his shirt. “I want to see you.”

They broke apart and Yuuri reached for the buttons of his shirt, suddenly feeling the weight of Viktor’s gaze on him. Normally he would be self-conscious, all too aware of the way his stomach had softened without the vigorous training regime he had once been used to. But as he slowly undid the buttons one by one, he could see Viktor drinking in every piece of newly expose skin with hunger in his eyes. The feeling of being desired made Yuuri’s confidence skyrocket and he shrugged out of his shirt slowly, allowing the fabric to slide down his shoulder as he gazed at Viktor from under his eyelashes.

“ _Yuuri,_ ” Viktor breathed and then he was kissing Yuuri again, the rest of his words lost to desperation. His hands roamed over the newly exposed expanse of Yuuri’s skin and Yuuri melted beneath his touch. He felt Viktor’s hands slide lower, pulling his belt from the loops of his trousers and tossing it to one side. Without thinking he pressed up into Viktor’s hands, mind caught up in his desperate need for more.

His hands caught in the fabric of Viktor’s shirt and he tugged at it demandingly. Viktor laughed, breath ghosting across Yuuri’s skin, and obliged. With deft movements he finished unbuttoning his shirt and tossed it away, allowing Yuuri to see him fully for the first time.

With light touches, Yuuri explored Viktor’s body, marvelling at the hard planes of his chest and feeling the ripple of muscles beneath his skin. Despite working what Yuuri assumed must be a desk job, there wasn’t any indication in Viktor’s figure and Yuuri couldn’t help the shiver of pleasure that ran through him at the sight.  

“Like what you see?” Viktor asked, voice rough as Yuuri’s hands slid across his shoulders to grasp tightly at his upper arms. The sound made anticipation curl in Yuuri’s gut and he nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“Good,” Viktor breathed, leaning in to steal another kiss. Using his weight, he tipped Yuuri backwards until he was lying fully on the bed with Viktor hovering over him. The intensity of Viktor’s gaze pinned Yuuri in place, like a butterfly under glass.

“Because I do too,” Viktor finished off, bending down to kiss Yuuri again. Most of Viktor’s weight was braced on his arms but Yuuri could still feel Viktor above him, surrounding him on all sides. It made him feel unexpectedly safe, held in the cage of Viktor’s arms with the Viktor’s eyes fixed on nothing but him.

Viktor’s hands slid down to his hips, fingers flicking open the fastenings of Yuuri’s trousers in one swift movement. Even the light brush had Yuuri bucking up into Viktor’s touch and he lifted his hips eagerly as Viktor slid off the remainder of his clothes with skilful hands. Once they were gone, Yuuri was left lying bare and exposed as Viktor’s eyes raked over his skin, savouring the sight.

“Of all the beautiful things I’ve ever seen,” Viktor murmured, gaze transfixed. “You are by far the loveliest.” 

Yuuri felt his cheeks heat up at the words, the blush extending across his cheekbones and over the tops of his ears. It travelled downwards too, heating his neck and chest as he flushed red. Viktor looked intrigued, planting a kiss to the centre of Yuuri’s chest which only served to make him blush further. When Viktor’s eyes flickered back to Yuuri’s face again, there was satisfaction clear in his gaze.

Wanting to turn the tides back on Viktor again, Yuuri reached down, fingers playing with the fastenings of Viktor’s trousers. Beneath his hands, he could feel the hardness of Viktor’s cock growing beneath the fabric and he brushed his fingers across it deliberately, hearing Viktor’s breathing speed up above him. Pressing his advantage, Yuuri tugged the fastenings of Viktor’s trousers open. He slid his hands under the layers of fabric, feeling the firmness of Viktor’s ass beneath his fingers.

Viktor reached out in turn, taking hold of Yuuri’s cock, thumb flicking over the head as he teased it with one lazy stroke. Yuuri shuddered at the sudden sensation, fingers digging into the meat of Viktor’s ass as he pushed up against Viktor’s hand, wanting more. Viktor was still half dressed but that didn’t last long, Yuuri scrambling to pull off the last of his clothes and leaving them both bare at last.

Viktor’s cock was thick and hot in Yuuri’s hand when he took a hold of it, running his hand up and down the length. Viktor’s hips snapped forward, thrusting instinctively into Yuuri’s touch and he gasped, leaning down to kiss Yuuri again. The kiss was more frantic than before, rough and demanding as they moved together, Viktor’s weight still pressing Yuuri down into the bed. Every one of Viktor’s touches sent Yuuri’s head spinning, his rational mind failing as instinct took over, every fibre of his being begging for more.

“How do you want this?” Viktor breathed in between kisses, pressing the words into Yuuri’s skin.

“I want you,” Yuuri replied, fingers tightening around Viktor’s cock. He wanted it inside him, wanted to feel as it split him open and fucked him deeply. He wanted Viktor to make him scream and beg and come apart and then he wanted to do the same to Viktor.

Viktor hands slid up his sides, caressing him reverently. When he looked down at Yuuri, he gazed as if seeing something infinitely precious. It was echoed in his touch, fingers skimming across Yuuri’s skin as though Yuuri was something to be revered. His mouth followed, worshipping Yuuri’s body with kisses, each one burning like a brand against Yuuri’s skin.

“Whatever you want zolotse,” Viktor hummed and Yuuri barely had the chance to register the new petname before Viktor’s hands were coaxing him to turn over. Yuuri moved, rolling so that he was lying with his chest pressed against the bed. Viktor was still hovering above him, kneeling between Yuuri’s thighs as he kissed a trail up Yuuri’s spine.

Lightly, Viktor pressed a final kiss to Yuuri’s shoulder before pulling back slightly, breath hot against Yuuri’s skin. Yuuri shivered, tense with anticipation for what was to come. Viktor’s hands slid firmly over his shoulders and down his sides, coaxing his body to relax. The soothing touches had Yuuri’s muscles turning to water beneath Viktor’s fingertips and he allowed himself to sink into the bed, burying his face in the pillow and sighing in pleasure at the feeling.

Viktor’s hands travelled lazily down, rubbing at the knots in Yuuri’s back before sliding lower. He kneaded the flesh of Yuuri’s ass and Yuuri pressed up into the touch, encouraging. One of Viktor’s fingers slipped between his cheeks, rubbing at Yuuri’s hole and he whined, pushing back and demanding more.

When Viktor kissed the back of his neck again, Yuuri could feel the smile against his skin. Then suddenly, Viktor’s hands left him entirely, leaving Yuuri cold and bereft. Yuuri almost opened his mouth to complain before he heard the unmistakable noise of Viktor rummaging somewhere by the bedside. Seconds later he returned to Yuuri, mouthing an apology into his neck and reaching for him again.

This time when Viktor’s fingers circled his hole, they were slick with lube. Yuuri pressed back, needing Viktor inside him, the urge so desperate that he felt like he might burst. Viktor obliged, pushing a finger into Yuuri, the slide now slick and easy. Yuuri let out a sigh of satisfaction, canting his hips backwards to give Viktor better access.

“Tell me if it gets too much,” Viktor murmured, pressing another open-mouthed kiss to Yuuri’s spine as his finger worked Yuuri open. Yuuri finally pried his face away from the pillow, turning to look over his shoulder.

Viktor’s expression was soft, staring down at Yuuri like he was trying to memorise the sight of him. When he saw Yuuri’s head turn he leaned down again, capturing Yuuri’s lips in a kiss as he added a second finger. Yuuri gasped into Viktor’s mouth, feeling his eyes flutter shut as the sensation overcame him.

Viktor continued to tease him, keeping his movements deliberately slow and torturous. When he eventually added a third finger Yuuri began to feel the stretch, but that was quickly washed away when Viktor’s fingers found the spot inside him that sent waves of pleasure rolling through his body. Yuuri moaned, writhing under Viktor’s touch as Viktor teased him there again, dragging more noises of pleasure out of him.

Yuuri fucked himself back onto Viktor’s fingers, seeking more. Viktor was relentless, working Yuuri open and sending pleasure crashing through him to the point of pain, too much and not enough all at the same time. Yuuri could feel himself trembling with desperation and when Viktor added a fourth finger he whined, the sound high and needy. Any minute now he was sure Viktor would stop teasing him and take it further but instead, Viktor seemed content as they were, pushing Yuuri closer to the edge as he continued to tease the spot that had stars bursting behind Yuuri’s eyes.

 _“Viktor,”_ Yuuri gasped eventually, not sure if he could take it any longer. There was no way he could last like this, already so close to falling apart at the seams. “ _Please_. I need you.”

Viktor’s fingers curled inside him again and Yuuri’s last few words were lost in a moan.

“I want to see how beautiful you are when you fall apart,” Viktor whispered as Yuuri writhed on his fingers, so close but not quite close enough. Reaching around, he stroked Yuuri’s cock again and Yuuri almost sobbed with how good it felt.

Caught between thrusting into Viktor’s hand and fucking himself back onto Viktor’s fingers, Yuuri knew that he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. Viktor stroked his cock with practiced precision, sending fire dancing across Yuuri’s nerves and tightness begin to coil in his gut.

Viktor’s lips found Yuuri’s skin again, sucking bruises into the junction where his neck met his shoulder and it was that that finally pushed Yuuri over the edge. He came hard, clenching down on Viktor’s fingers as his vision whited out and he clawed at the sheets beneath him. Pleasure rolled through him, sending him slumping against the mattress as his arms gave out from under him. He was still shuddering from the aftershocks when Viktor finally pulled away, leaving Yuuri feeling achingly empty.

It took several long seconds for Yuuri’s mind to begin working again, his breath still heaving in his chest and his heart beating a frantic rhythm against his ribcage. Languidly he rolled over, body still limp as his muscles refused to fully co-operate. Viktor was gazing down at him, looking extremely pleased with himself.

“Beautiful,” he told Yuuri where Yuuri was sprawled out beneath him. With his thumb, Viktor traced the curve of Yuuri’s lips, then up across the line of his cheekbone. His hair was mussed, his face was flushed and his eyes were dark, a picture of debauchery. “You’re beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you,” Yuuri replied, finally finding his voice again. His throat was rough and his voice was hoarse but Viktor beamed anyway, pressing Yuuri back into the mattress for another kiss.

When their bodies were pressed together, Yuuri could feel the hard line of Viktor’s cock burning against his hip. It sent a stab of guilt through him, knowing that Viktor had been so focused on him that he had neglected his own pleasure.

Viktor continued to kiss him, down the column of Yuuri’s throat and across his chest. When Viktor’s teeth grazed one of his nipples, Yuuri’s cock began weakly stirring in interest again. Every part of him felt wrung out and spent but that didn’t stop his body from trying to perk up under Viktor’s constant attention.

Yuuri knew that he wouldn’t be able to get hard again for a while but that didn’t seem to stop Viktor. He continued to kiss Yuuri lazily, self-restraint unshakable. When Yuuri reached down to wrap his fingers around Viktor’s cock, wanting to return the favour, Viktor caught his hand instead and brought it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the palm.

“Not yet,” he told Yuuri, accent thicker than Yuuri had ever heard it before, voice rough and deep. The sound sent a curl of pleasure through Yuuri’s gut and he pulled Viktor down into another kiss, willing his body to recover faster. He wanted more, wanted everything, and he didn’t want to wait.

By the time his cock to began to grow hard again, Yuuri was already aching. He was pretty sure his refractory period hadn’t been so short since he’d been a teenager, but it was impossible not to want more when Viktor was hovering above him, teasing Yuuri back to hardness with slow, languid strokes and sensual kisses.

Yuuri reached out for Viktor too, feeling how achingly hard he was beneath Yuuri’s touch. Viktor’s kisses grew hungrier as the heat began to build between them again, his hands greedy as they roamed across Yuuri’s skin. Yuuri could feel Viktor’s desperation begin to show through, his self-restraint finally crumbling under Yuuri’s temptation.

“I want you,” Yuuri demanded between kisses. “I don’t want to wait anymore.”

Viktor had made him fall apart and he wanted to do the same in return. Wanted to hear the way Viktor moaned, wanted to see him lose control the way that Yuuri had before. Wanted to make Viktor feel as good as Viktor had made him.

“Anything for you,” Viktor replied, voice tight with desire.

For a moment he shifted away, reaching over to the bedside drawer again. When he returned, Yuuri could see the glint of the foil wrapper in his hand and his stomach clenched in anticipation. Viktor tore the top of the packet open with his teeth, impatience now clear in every movement.

While Viktor rolled the condom on, Yuuri flipped himself over, propping himself up on his hands and knees on the bed again. Knowing that Viktor was watching him, he arched up enticingly, hearing Viktor’s breath hitch behind him. Firm hands grasped Yuuri’s hips, holding him in place as Viktor draped himself across Yuuri’s back. Rolling his hips backwards, Yuuri could feel Viktor’s cock press against his ass and felt the vibrations of Viktor’s choked off moan as Yuuri rubbed against him.

A soft hand slid around Yuuri’s jaw, tilting his head to one side so that Viktor could kiss him again. This time there was nothing gentle about it, Viktor’s teeth pulling at Yuuri’s lower lip as he kissed him fiercely.

“I’m ready,” Yuuri gasped, arching back against Viktor again. He could feel Viktor’s arms trembling, just barely restraining himself. His cock nudged against Yuuri’s ass again and Viktor’s fingers dug into his hips as he angled them both together.

Yuuri was still loose and open so when Viktor’s cock finally pushed inside there was nothing but pleasure and the feeling of perfect fullness, shaking him to his very core. Viktor let out a sound that was caught somewhere between a moan and a growl as Yuuri clenched down around his cock. He rocked against Yuuri, starting slow but picking up the pace rapidly as Yuuri made noises of encouragement, snapping his hips back to meet Viktor’s thrusts.

Viktor’s mouth found the back of Yuuri’s neck again, sucking bruises into the skin as he set a rapid pace that sent shocks of pleasure singing through Yuuri’s already over-sensitised body.  Yuuri gasped into the sheets as Viktor found the perfect angle, a sound that Viktor echoed as they moved together. The headboard slammed into the wall and Yuuri was suddenly very glad that Viktor didn’t have any neighbours. He was sure between the two of them, they were making enough noise to wake the dead, let alone the sleeping.

That thought was soon driven away however as Yuuri lost himself to raw feeling again. Viktor’s arms were bracketed around him, the muscles straining as Viktor fucked him hard and fast. Yuuri’s fingers were clenched in the sheets, trying in vain anchor himself. Unexpectedly, a soft touch brushed over the back of his hand and when Yuuri looked over, it was to see Viktor lacing their fingers together. Holding Yuuri’s hand tightly in his own, the gesture surprisingly gentle and a perfect counterpoint to the thrusts that were sending Yuuri’s head reeling.  

Eventually, Viktor began to tense above him, movements beginning to grow more erratic. With the hand that wasn’t clasping Yuuri’s he reached around, stroking Yuuri’s cock in time to his thrusts. Yuuri shuddered, clenching around Viktor again and Viktor finally came undone. His fingers were like burning brands grasping at Yuuri as he came, Yuuri’s name a choked off moan on his lips. It wasn’t long before Yuuri lost himself too, Viktor’s hand teasing him over the edge as he slumped bonelessly back onto the bed again.

For a few minutes they simply lay there, tangled together as their breathing returned to normal. Viktor’s arms wound around Yuuri, pulling him into an embrace. Yuuri snuggled closer, feeling pleasantly spent. It wasn’t a common thing for him to be tired after sex. Usually, his stamina outlasted his partner’s by a significant amount. But with Viktor, he was exhausted in the best way, although he was sure he would feel the burn in his muscles come morning. Much as he wanted to, there was no way that he would be able to go another round that night. His promise to himself about taking Viktor apart the same way Viktor ruined him so perfectly would have to wait.  

Viktor shifted against Yuuri, his breath warm against Yuuri’s neck. His fingers were tracing idle patterns across Yuuri’s skin, cock still buried inside Yuuri as he grew soft again.

“You’re perfect, zolotse,” he murmured and Yuuri could feel the vibrations of the words where his back was pressed against Viktor’s chest. “Perfect.”

“You called me that before,” Yuuri said, catching Viktor’s hand in his own and threading their fingers together. “What does it mean?”

“Gold,” Viktor told him, voice full of warmth. “It means ‘my gold’.”

When Viktor kissed him again, Yuuri was sure that he had never felt so happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes about the chapter:
> 
> Firstly, I know that The Sleeping Beauty is only being performed by the New York City ballet starting in February 2019 and this is supposed to be set in later summer/early autumn. But considering Viktor calls Yuuri Sleeping Beauty in the show, I couldn’t resist using it for their date anyway. 
> 
> Also, this fic is set in the same universe as YOI which means there is no homophobia. In regards to Mr Wright’s reaction to Yuuri, it was entirely based in the fact that he could tell Yuuri wasn’t rich and not because Viktor had a boyfriend. 
> 
> Finally, I hope the first smut scene of this fic was worth the wait! There will definitely be more in the future too, especially within the next few chapters. Also, please note the switching tag on this fic since that will be involved in future chapters. 
> 
> As usual, you can find me on [tumblr](http://kazliin.tumblr.com/) where I post more fic writing and YOI <3
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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